Under the moonâs silver light, they rise,
Witches with secrets in their eyes.
Cloaked in shadows, they whisper spells,
In forests deep and ancient wells.
Their laughter echoes in the night,
A haunting sound that chills with fright.
By cauldron’s glow, they dance and sway,
Through mist and fog, they find their way.
Stars above bear silent witness,
To the witchesâ ancient fitness.
With potions brewed and charms they bind,
The mysteries of the night unwind.
As dawn approaches, they retreat,
To secret places, dark and discreet.
Until the night calls them anew,
The witches’ flight beneath the moonlit hue.