The Witch Who Rides the Night

The Witch Who Rides the Night

She rides above the silver clouds,

where mortal eyes can never see.

Her lantern glows with stolen light,

guiding all her wicked dreams.

The wind obeys her whispered spells,

as shadows gather at her call.

She moves through storms without a sound,

a queen of darkness over all.

Her heart was once as warm as fire,

before the world betrayed her trust.

Now cold desire fuels her flight,

and every tender vow is dust.

She hunts the secrets men forget,

collecting memories of their sins.

Her broom cuts through the starless dark,

as silent as a violin.

No moon can tame the path she walks,

no love can break the curse she keeps.

For she belongs to endless night,

where wounded souls refuse to sleep.

Yet even as she rides alone,

across the endless, haunted blue,

she stares into the drifting clouds,

and wonders if her heart still grew.