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There once was a mournful witch whose husband divorced her 30 years ago. She took refuge far away from the village.
In her shack amidst the overgrown ivy, she would reminisce about all the kids they could have had.
Her sanctity was her cauldron, which she cooked and devoured her children with.
The cynical witch lived in defiance to the village where she once lived.
In her wrath, she would barter magic potions for children with greedy villagers. The witch sabotaged the lives of the pious commoners.
The twisted witch would reprieve the children of their death 'till she fattened them up. Then, she'd feast on them.
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