Come wander with the cursed and broken

through this realm of woodland music

where melodies wind along paths to a ritual center

Out in the shadow walks one I cannot see

a spell on her lips ready for sacrifice

waiting to lure the unwary further from the path

deeper into strange and wicked places

Her voice a song of soft insanity

her eyes a fire that catches in my soul

and fills the dark spaces with visions of blood

So I walk softly through the witch’s wood

with eyes fixed only on the path ahead

and I spare no thought for the music

that flows as a promise of ecstasy through this forest

—

I’ve been working on a story, and it seems every day something new comes to mind that I know I need to address or develop. My kitchen counter is starting to get covered with scraps of paper on which I’ve scrawled ideas, sketches, etc. The whole thing is a bit of a mess, to be honest, but through it all I can still see the end I’m working toward, which is nice. Editing this is going to be a monster… but first I have to finish it.

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