Witch Land

In a shade hidden at the forest's silence;
accompanied by a full moon, my noisy steps,
howl of a wolf in a night tracks the horror,
seems soil slipping underneath my bare feet.

Listening music coming from the deepest forest,
with seduction songs, the nymph witches calling,
opening black magical empire gates to let me in,
to follow their un-carved stony way of witch-land.

A path where beauty meets beast under deep honesty,
ruled by magical mighty swords to do soul screaming,
a moon-witch appeared to take me to her home as guest,
invited for a ride on the broomstick, to have a look.

The folks of my fantasies, Bilbo, spar-hawk, goblins,
pixies, snowman, willow, trolls and the seven dwarfs
roaming, scenes under from above, while on ride with her,
the panoramic view goes forever on, spellbinding nerves.

Via a wilderness lake travels a lonely witch wanderer,
hearing, at a pond beneath, the cries of swans for freedom,
echoes through air as screams of eagles longing for past,
shedding cold twilight at land of raven, singing melancholy.