All light and life are sound asleep

Night falls and darkens the ground

Being rushed to the woods to sit around

No mother

No father

Wandering, bobbling with hunger

Coming across a sticky bunker

With happiness floating

And smiles galore

Invited into a folklore

A conjurer to be found

With strength and might

The tables have turned

Mistreated and broke

Forced and beaten

Fattened and sick

A stove made a fiery doom

Swallowed in pie

The witch dies