Vile Brew

Vile Brew

From his cage
he watched the witch
stir her caldron
black as pitch.

Finger nails
peeling skin,
she stares at him
with evil grin.

Pinch of spider,
shrunken head,
dried bat wings,
breath of the dead.

Piercing silence
with his scream,
as he realizes
it's not a dream.

Swirling madness,
insane laughter,
escape is hopeless
as she comes after.

Then she cackles
and brings the brew.
He gags at the sight-
Mom's chicken stew.



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