steadily marching into the night
darkness comes obscuring all light
rolls the myst and carves in two
no one comes looking for you
villagers rageing angrily raving pitched forks and torches abound
eyes of the crazy madening hazing of all the ones in black gowns
the mighty oak reaches her arms out to you rising up off the ground
soon to be through with you twisting and turning watch as burning astounds
seven witches scemeing, seven witches screaming, seven witches soon to die
seven witches hanging, seven witches journy, seven witches to the other side
curses aspewing like acid anewing bone from the flesh of your sore lives
your screams fill the night air all look upon you there and laugh as you wither away
soon to turn blue and the demons come for you and wisk your soul to hell this day
then rotting your flesh shall be hanging on deaths tree till blade cuts you low in the light
seven witches scemeing, seven witches screaming, seven witches soon to die
seven witches hanging, seven witches journy, seven witches to the other side
no coffin to lie in dirt your only warm friend worms eat of your decay
there's fugus amoung us putrid flesh of your corpes defiles the pure earth like a stain
they revell with cheering no need for the sneering seven witches lie in the grave
no one to morn them no one to warn them so children play on their graves
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem