The Black Angel

The full moon rises giving light to the shrouded figures sat motionless deep within the woods
The Circle begins to stir
Strange chants in the dead of night give way as the Black Angel rises from her sacred grave
The Circle entwined, taking power from her inner being
A virgin is sacrificed
Or would have been
For this is Britain today
Where virgins just don’t grow on trees, woods or no woods
Totally disgusted with the lack of morals in Britain 
She ups sticks 
Directed by a powerful red light
She heads off to Amsterdam.

Reviews

[Dhara_Ditzy Kat]

Interesting, the way the poem seems to twist into a totally unexpected angle halfway through the spooky tale (I was about to hop into the kitchen, get my popcorn) I really like where the conclusion took me (pun unintentional) Loved the wordplay in the concluding lines. The message too!

[Paul Bell]

Just when you thought it was safe to play in the woods.

[Dhara_Ditzy Kat]

I usually don’t venture there Paul. And now I’m totally spooked!

[Paul Bell]

I live with the three bears, so it's home to me. lol

[Dhara_Ditzy Kat]

Sounds cozy then! I hope the Black Angel doesn’t turn up for dinner Haha!