I dropped down in the witchwood
To see what I could find
The trees had taken time out
To blow away my mind
All that I could hear there
Was the sound of my own voice
But the music it was making
Was nothing of my choice.
The interwoven branches
Were laden deep with snow
rainbow shone so softly
To show which way to go
I observed its many colours
Till my eyes were rimmed with frost
I tried hard to trace my footsteps
For I feared I might get lost.
The witchwood started singing
With a strange unearthly sound
My fingers grew like branches
I stood rooted to the ground
And the spell is still unbroken
I am still her bidden slave
Till a casket from the witchwood
Bears my body to the grave.