The Witch Of The Winter Poem by Teresa Dearing

The Witch of the Winter she calls to me,
Come lay in my cool, white softness.
So lovely and pure, I will be your cure,
For all the world’s sorrow and sadness.
No struggles, no pain, you can only gain,
Come to me, escape all of this madness.
Her voice in the wind sings a sweet delight,
As she calls me to lie on her mattress.
Soft and white in the middle of the night,
She numbs my pain with her gladness.
The shaking soon stops as the numbness takes hold,
And she frees me from all of life’s badness.
As the church bells chime, the Lord calls “Be mine.”
It’s too late I’m already passed this.
And the Witch of the Winter she’s left me cold,
To pay for my sins with sadness.
So forsake not you mother, you father, your brother,
When you’re drawn to sorrow and darkness.
For the Witch will leave you cold and alone,
Laughing at all of your weakness.
So no matter your pain, your sorrow, or ills,
Trust not the in Witches madness.

But close your eyes and thank God your alive,
And can feel the pain, sorrow, and gladness….