by Nick Gisburne
I purchase all the pieces of her brain
From underworld collectors, slice by slice,
And, when I find that only two remain,
I know that I will offer any price.
I beg. I steal. I murder, many times.
I sell my soul. At last I have them all.
I beg her to forgive me for my crimes.
In wonderment, before her form I fall.
The undiluted essence of her voice,
Ferocious as the day her body died,
Is music, magic, madness. I rejoice,
The proud, devoted servant at her side.
But I control the powers of the witch,
With nothing but a simple, silver switch.
