When the night grows longer

And the day is short,

The ground grows colder

And the weather is dull,

This is the Season of the Witch.

When you hear a whisper in the dark

And you know you are alone,

What is that sound, a ghost in the air?

Familiar, eerie, a voice in the night,

This is the Season of the Witch.

When you feel a presence

And you look behind,

There stands a figure, familiar, long lost

You feel their magic calling you home,

This is the Season of the Witch.

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