what would you do for love to be at your hands?
would you kill, would you blame?
even you'll end up in flame
as to trick someone to be yours,
lost with jealous thoughts that burns
to let a witch feel sorrow
to make a young prince furrow
fool mob, she cries
and beg mercy to the orange and lilac sky
the witch as the nun reckoned,
turned to be a black feathered angel, screams
but her voice was drowned with loud cheers
wings the color of charcoal,
but never represents her soul
stretched, flying off to the night
to leave her love for him that's pure as gold.
