The witch embraces her fervent instincts; nurtured by nature, feared by men, perhaps bribed by the devil, and put to the flame. From those that she assign Fate, so easily can she take it away; tears of prophecy that stir in the cup of men. She is drawn away from her natural gift by the men that fear her, imprisoned in their reality, and hiding from her own. Thrice she call upon the forces in which the wind is woven, gathering the might locked beneath her feet, to unleash upon those that hold her collar.
Hold her flesh, burn her heart, poison her mind – this is the will of men. Her will is stronger. The eyes of time give her power. In her palms, she holds patience; pain and suffering glide over them like water. Man tricked man; doomed forever to till the cursed ground. For responsibility is thrown eschew in the heart of man, and this is his punishment. Wicked was she who gave man his cures, for this was the very compassion that was kneaded from her bones and now lay untapped.
Throw your chin to the sky, woman, and open your eyes. Embody your nature, embody all you are meant to be. Throw away these earthly chains you have been imprisoned in, take hold of the clouds, take hold of the sun, of the moon, and gain knowledge through the teachers within the waves. You are meant to hold in both your palms what comes in twos, and your eyes will see all. She will reclaim her time, her beauty in nature, and fight for this freedom once more. It will be her time soon. Begin now. You are the host of truth’s potential.