A

The Craft.

A traveler of the night
'Jimmy Mist, walked a thin line
within Granville forest
to quench his hunger for healing crystals.

Striving with an unstoppable force
As if his life depended on it
to hide within
thin safe haven caved walls.

The time, not so long ago
only a few centuries old
'Massachusetts 1692
At a time of mortifying Salem witch trials.

Hysteria wildly spread out
White hedge witches
Mixed with black voodoo
Various practitioners of the craft.

"Possessed gospel hags!"
Heretic's fork tortured us to death
seat upon spiked seared armchairs
until time passed to confess.

Inside the deep woods
Jimmy Mist hid in his only home
Patiently anticipating flee from it all
Lifetimes passed, yet it's his time now.

~Yours Truly,