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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