In the heart of the whispering woods,
Where shadows dance with the breeze,
The witches gather under moonlit skies,
Weaving magic with silent ease.

Their chants echo through ancient trees,
Stirring the soul of the slumbering night,
Potions simmer in cauldrons deep,
As stars lend their ethereal light.

Cloaked in mystery, draped in lore,
They conjure dreams and forgotten tales,
Guardians of secrets, keepers of time,
Their presence felt in the night’s veils.

As dawn approaches, they fade away,
Leaving whispers in the morning mist,
The forest holds their secrets tight,
In shadows where the witches exist.