The Witch in the Hood

Violence boiling in thy brain
Deep within where it can evolve and mutate
Into something hungrier for far more than pain;
A refuge where the demon may meditate and
Dream sick nightmares of the ultimate fate
Of the fool who'd wished away life without knowing.
Albeit the star forever remains glowing
How her rays doth bend and gyrate
Kamikaze-like through the night sky.
Singular destination in the dome,
The thought producer's sacred home.
Staining our sight with her passionate dye,
Showing things just as they seem,
O her will doth shine and gleam!

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