Starlit Memories, Haunted Dreams

Of Witches And Corpses

A Poetry piece (an experiment with writing a Ballad)

Warning: According to your interpretation there may be suicide or self harm but otherwise none.

Author's Note: So here's a little tale. I was actually alternating between making it a cool short story with maybe an element of reader engagement (which I still might later). This may be a little confusing or just plain bad because this is my first time, try not to judge lmao. I might just end up making another post just yapping about the stuff I put in here.

A click, a swish, a familiar rush,

A thought so violent it made her blush.

And the moon, it shines,

Up high in the sky,

It asks the little witch

Why does she lie?

And lie she does

Under the clouds,

Her head on the grass

With thoughts too loud

Her familiar whispers

and hisses a curse

It was her friend and love

And something far worse

Claws bigger than tallest of trees,

The rush of the hurt, it made her freeze.

It kept her warm

Through the cold nights

Through storms that killed

And long lasting fights

Such is the curse

Of the witches of the dead

They live through love

And love through dread

But there was no love

In the heart of this one

Just a longing for company

Though solitude was her only companion

The coven, they sing, around a fire,

She sneaks right in, the wicked little liar.

Such is the curse

Of a coven so dark

Of a love that lights

A burning spark

A coven has rules

Ones she must follow

They feel like chains

They ring so hollow

Not the graves

Not the hearts

No, don't touch magic

With death you must part

So she dances, evil are her ways,

Through the flame, she spends her days.

But death is not only

The ones humans reach

It's the song of her love

The only prayer she does preach

Yet she speaks not of it

Not of her love

Not of her hurt

Or the moon above

She tucks her knees,

Close to her chest

And gazes longingly

At the death made crest

She looks up at moon in the dead of the night,

And asks him for which love should she fight.

And the moon it talks

To her through the night

It questions her motives

And questions her might

For love is the bravest

Thing to pursue

And break free from shackles

Was what she must do

Questioning the stars

And driven to madness

She runs through the night

The soft wind, to her, a gentle caress

She runs and runs, until she does fall,

As ugly and useless as one broken doll.

And run she does

Straight to a grave

Where there is nobody to judge

Her for her mistake

She brings it alive

The dirt and stone

Clutching to her heart

A gemstone alone

The trees come alive

The wind starts to bellow

And so she returns to her nest

The dark little sparrow

The dead, they rise, to her call,

They look at their love, hearts enthralled.

Their darling, their dear

She was back home

Unshed tears in her eyes

In her hands, a tome

It was a shame that left

Even death heartbroken

The anguish of their darling

Was one painful notion

Even her familiar was caught

Between the heart at war

Though that did not stop

The snarl and roar that it bore

They sat together, the witch and her death,

And after two ages, she took her first breath.

Her freedom, she told them

Now she must meet

She must turn to the cold

She was tired of the heat

Such is the curse

Of a girl so haunting

To leap into love

'Twas a task so daunting

But with her love's

Arms around her

She could feel

The peace surround her

A step or two forward, a cut, some blood,

The dark night came, she felt it flood.

The moon still shone

Up high in the sky

While the witch stayed lost

Forever in a lie

And maybe one day

There will be some magic

To reverse this tale

Ever so tragic

But up until then

There she will lie

Wrapped in ordeals

That she was plagued by

A click, a swish, a familiar rush,

An action so violent it made her blush.

From who, my shadow, my heart, my pride?

Do I desire to be held,

Only after the ugly parts are cut out?

My heart, o, you fool,

You know not of what you want.

So tired you've grown in this path of life, so weary of carrying your burdens—

That you seek to tear yourself in half

Trying to please those who are not meant to stay.

Do you desire to fix us, O heart?

Do you desire to shed this ugly skin of ours?

Do you desire to be a serpentine temptress?

Charming the angels with your glowing eyes and poisoned tongue,

If only to hear them say once that the hide of your suffering is comfortable.

O, heart, I know you,

You need not be saved.

You loathe the hands that attempt to pick you up, O heart.

We tear at them, we claw, trying to escape their gentle grip.

For this is our life, my heart, for what is broken in us may never be saved

We will die, O heart, die trying to keep together the shattered pieces of our soul.

So, I urge you, I plead and I beg—

Abandon all caution, my heart!

Throw your chains to the wind!

For what is to be saved if not another prison to be held in?

Who defines who is damned and who is salvageable at all?

You need not a saviour, O heart, you need only a companion.

One who does not turn away when it sees you slithering out of your skin,

Or ripping at yourself,

Or poisioning everything around you.

No, heart, look!

This one,

it holds you dear, even as you thrash in the dark of the night,

When the moon has abandoned you,

When you gnash your teeth,

This one stays still.

This one holds you, O heart, this one does!

Did you ever want to be saved, O heart?

For I see you now, you glow as the sun does.

You've pulled yourself up from the trenches,

Oh! You're reaching for the sky!

But your shadow still stays, O heart, in the days where you cannot help but-

Fight and fight and fight and fight and

Harm and harm and harm and harm

Or die and die and die

But it does not leave, O heart.

This one stays, O heart.

It's all you ever needed, my heart.