The one

The white witch stood tall,
catering relief, only to face grief;
Helion she was, and could not recall
the reason she’d become a thief.

She’d stolen the boy,
just to mash him into a toy…
she’d played with callow intent;
Worst things was, she did not repent!

Two had taken hold of her,
transcending a saboteur…
Five would fight her way to light
to transform black into white…

So she watched this scurried fellow
with his eyes kind, light and mellow,
and she took his hand to show
he was in her bosom’s glow.

Woman of so many faces
pretending life into graces,
shading vision into light
outshining all’s nefarious, with her might!

Three would bless him with a kiss;
This lost boy who sprawled amiss
then she’d send relish to Five
reminding the cherub… he should thrive;

Kindness loved her eyes in shame,
parting lovers without blame,
So would Nine rebirth that second
For her present to be reckoned.

tremors in the lines had gone
painting warmth into their dawn,
for they parted with a smile
staining glass in styles beguile.


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