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The Chosen

A witch’s rap

By Arthur ArmstrongPublished 2 months ago Updated about 2 hours ago 1 min read
3
The Chosen
Photo by Hannah Troupe on Unsplash

Silence is golden

But speaking up is vital.

Better know we’ll throw hands

If you come for my title.

I’m a ruthless cutthroat

When I whip up a spell

If you attack, you fucked up

Cuz I’ll send you to Hel.

I’m the omnipotent bitch.

I got a hex for your friends.

Oh, You like how that tastes?

Cuz I’ll do it again.

I got gods on my side,

And goddesses too.

Is that enough for you, bitch?

Cuz you can bet I ain’t through.

I got powders and potions

And I got salves for your wounds

But you get rough or pop off?

You’ll meet the ancestors soon.

They have witnessed my acts

And they’ve decided I’m worthy,

But they’ve seen your works too

And they will show you no mercy.

You tried to send Death to my front door.

But what you don’t know is, Death?

Well he knows me from before.

Death and I were acquainted

Since long before you existed

So it’s probably best

If you just cease and desisted.

I’m the curse breaker, the Lightbringer,

the Sun, and the Chosen

And if you try to fuck with me

You’ll find your assets are FROZEN.

I’m not here to makes waves

But if you want a tsunami

Then prepare to hang ten

Cuz the whole crew’s behind me.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Arthur Armstrong

A being of duality, poetic irreverence, and maddening nonsense.

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