This forest is enchanted with devilry and spells.
It pulls me in and holds me where black voodoo magic dwells.
Bewitched, afraid and powerless, lost and all alone
I cannot think what alchemy has turned my limbs to stone.
Cold and icy fingers are clutching at my heart
What wizard worked this sorcery, who changed the light to dark?
Some ancient incantation, some trickery, some scheme….
That’s all I need to free me from this nightmare of a dream.
The witching trance is much too strong, impossible to break.
Out of the mystic rising now the runes spell out my fate.
Why can’t I turn my eyes away and just refuse to look?
Why must I face this prophecy, the ending to my book?
The divination now reveals the truth it won’t conceal.
Life is an illusion. None of this is real.
Trifecta Challenge Week Seventy Two: using the 3rd definition of alchemy – an inexplicable or mysterious transmuting.