Anger pounded its fists against my heart
Anger ripped my brain apart,
Anger whispered to me inside my head;
And revenge is what it has always said.
How dare they refuse me food!
Which has drawn me into this inevitable mood,
They should never have committed the selfish deed,
Of refusing a witch food when she is in need.
Now to make the spell they will never forget,
For true vengeance is surely what I'll get,
I chant the spell like it's a religious song,
This is their fate. Nothing can go wrong.
With steps like thunder I march; broom in hand,
I must wipe these people off their land,
My eyes blaze like fire as I walk,
And I shout the spell to disable them from talk.
Silence seeps through the village at last,
For no one can speak due to the spell I cast,
No one can scream, shout or yelp,
Although their horrified tears were pleading for help.
But now I've started I cannot possibly stop,
The curse I have brought upon them is what they deserve, is it not?
A new desire for destruction is unleashed in my brain,
With haste I conjure a potion to bring yet more pain.
"All parent's children will die straight away!"
With regret these are the words that I say,
And grief grasps my heart when I realise what I've done,
I've killed him.
I've killed my son...
Author's note: thanks again to the amazing @[shaving monkeys] @shaving monkeys for providing the fabulous illustration for this poem. I recommend her for any illustrations you need doing!