The Witch of Reasons
Magic at its worst or best you decide
The Witch of Reasons
She walks where questions gather thick,
in corners where no light will stay,
her breath a hush of knowing cold,
her eyes that weigh what minds betray.
They come to her with trembling hands,
with secrets stitched beneath the skin,
for she can taste the truth in lies,
and pull the buried darkness in.
Her fingers trace the silent air,
as if she reads what none can see,
each whispered doubt becomes a thread,
within her woven prophecy.
No prayer will turn her gaze aside,
no pleading voice can make her blind,
for she was born of sharpened thought,
the final judge of humankind.
She speaks in tones both soft and grave,
each word a blade, each pause a snare,
revealing things we lock away,
the hidden rot we cannot bear.
And when she leaves, the silence screams,
for nothing false remains in place,
the witch of reasons takes her due,
and leaves the truth upon your face.
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About the Creator
George’s Girl 2026
I've been writing poetry since the age of 10. With pen in hand, I wander the realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture you ❤️#Marie381UkWrites
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Comments (3)
OH MY
You have such a lovely way with words that paint such vivid pictures. This is another example, soft and gentle but right to the core.
Once again, your majestic poems shines. This is fabulous