In the heart of the moonlit forest, shadows dance,
Cloaked in mysteries, where the witches prance.
Their whispers echo through the ancient trees,
Casting spells carried by the midnight breeze.

Eyes like embers, glowing with secret lore,
They gather ’round the cauldron, seeking more.
With chants and charms, they weave their fates,
Bound by magic that never abates.

The night is alive with their ethereal song,
A melody of power, both fierce and strong.
Stars bear witness to their midnight rites,
As they summon the spirits to share their sights.

By dawn’s first light, they fade away,
Leaving behind the whispers of their stay.
In the heart of the forest, their essence remains,
A testament to the witches’ ethereal reign.