10 October 2012
You fools, you think you can burn me. Cast my body to the stake and the flames. You think you can drive away the devil. I will not be defeated, black amber courses through my veins.
You will not mourn my passing, Or bless me with your rosaries. You heathens have no knowledge of my power, While you celebrate my demise with your revelry.
She rose from the ashes and decaying wood. A mystical transformation to behold. Her cascading black hair full of lustre, Skin anew, like a waxwork doll.
For centuries they have tried to destroy her, Eradicate her with fire. But she'll feed off your negative energy, And grow within the funeral pyre.
I am Jet, a black jewel of a witch Absorbing the souls within You can't imagine my wisdom and intensity You minions wouldn't know where to begin.
*This was the last of my jewel poems. For those that read them all, I hope you enjoyed them.
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~~JET~~ • Opuss № I