Repositorye for the Childe of a VVitch

A formicarium my mind became
As chanting oaths she played a ghastly game
On all fours, candles lit, and braying Satan's name.
My eyesight faded, blotted out the sun,
She scampered in and out in habit dun

She, who, by some unholy moon did wed
A misshaped sailor, kill'd upon his bed
Which lent to me my tail, and bumpy head.
So that I cursed the day I took a breath
And starve for that on which I'll see my death.

Finn McCool is an amateur poet and guitar teacher from New Jersey. He is considered a hero of the Irish canon and is responsible for building the Giant's Causeway.

(The Editor suspects that was another Fiann Mac Cumnhall, but never mind...)

Find more by Finn McCool in the Author Index.