The witching hour,
A time of infinite possibilities.
Midnight is what I want it to be,
Sometimes magical, other times evil.
But the times of evilness are of my own making,
It is my free choice, I can drift and float in the essence of magical wonder or
Chain myself in the darkness of a black soul.
Both exist in abundance
In the witching hour and I decide which to feed.
The ability and freedom to choose is a grave responsibility,
Frightening in its implications.
There is no one else here,
But they are all watching
Which choice will I make?
Witch choice will make me?