Witchcraft

A poem in free verse

Dropping from her lexicon,
As weighted hands,
Dusted in earth,
That spank the hide,

Ringing in drummers ears,
The rhythm of her voice,
tames beasts of the desert,
To her side

She woke the creatures,
Nipping bloody,
At her heels,
Tearing flesh,

In trance,
Deep into the darkness’,
Insentient recess,

Till the moon,
Enriched her juices -
Refreshed,

She danced to the beating,
of stretched skin,
Soothing the bark of the jackals,

Rejecting safety of his peers,
One ventured,

Alone

Fear gyrating the pupil,
He crept forth,
With raised hackles,


A beautiful boy,
Instincts impaired,
With fur of silver and rust,
Flashing white teeth,
Nostrils flared,
He sniffed the air,

Where her passions poured,
Intoxicated,
He grew accursed,

Lickerish Lupulella’s lollapalooza,
Twisting his tongue,
to try quench its thirst,

Supping from the cup of her hands,
He grows to lust,
Only for her spell,
Never to trust,
Beyond her word,
Remaining silent,

Changing his nature,
He drunk without quell,
Till her rivers grew,

With one bloody thrust,
She tore out his heart,
Threw it skyward,
Her face morphed,
Jaw apart,
Snapped and rolled,

In her belly,
It was cleaned,
Of any and all purity,

Her tempo weaned,
Feet quickened,
Kicked up a fervour,

It shook the land,
Stirred the waters,

The jackals heart,
All which lived inside
Any animalistic spirit,
Essence of pride,

...washed away,

To the rapids,
Without a raft,

Through her drum,
She beat its rhythm,
Ba-bum, ba-bum,

The wild again became bewitched,

That was the power,
Of her craft.

Poem by © Darius the Mate


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Playing with Words

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