CURSE
- 11 hours ago
- 1 min read
By Petty Dreadful
Bitter leaf brews noxious
as bubbling rust of an aged screw rests
submerged under black moon water
knocking gently in the murk
against jagged quartz.
Hateful utterings form mantras
at the darkest early hours
by the dim light of a red candle
that drips it's wax beside
a spotted trail of blood.
Intentions of ruin
bringing forth an era of misfortune
from a vengeful grinding
of cinnamon and cayenne
that promise no flavour, only spite.
Black salt, belladonna, piss
mires broken mirror shards and needles
in the final, watery resting place
of a, once angry, bloated wasp
with hope to harness its sting.
The putrid jar filled and shaken
sealed with wax and twine
fated face focused, it's owner
unknowingly sleeping
as the witch steeps her revenge
and hands it to the universe.