Witches Poem by Ghost Legend

You can feel eyes around here,
Peeking through the bushes.
Night doesn't seem dark, at all.
Perhaps it's in the moonlight
Or neighbor's window blinds,
But a certain hatred falls.
Of a kind slow burning,
Like thunder through the skies,
Rippling, power yearning
Chills down one's spine.
I cannot help but hearing
Their cackling in my mind.
As if, for a second turning
Would bring abrupt end to life.
Lest there be disappointment,
Fear flies.