Death here is like lighting a candle.
Their wicks are cut close to the base,
dipped in wax and burnt at the stake
For many the centuries in time it's said
You can never be sure if they're actually dead
Find a Harvest moon on All Hollow's Eve
This is a night that all mortals grieve
Black Magick is angry, jealous, and sour
It can get all the more rotten with ever waking hour
Cut off the head, dip it in candle wax,
Let the body burn, but never relax
A witch can come back with the dead at her toes
Following her shadow, where ever she goes
The leaders will lie with damnation in their throats
When you hear cries of the dead, remember their quotes
"We speak of them but never tell
A secret we will take to Hell"
When revenge is on a dead witch's tongue
There will be nary a safe place to run
And don't dare think you're safe from death
For she'll come back to rip out your last breath.
Honorable mention
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