Down in the bayou

Just outside of town

Shrouded by trees

My small hut resides

Almost sunken in the water

Held up by gnarled roots

Alligators lie in wait

Spirits slip down vines

No one dares reach the foot

Of my porch so worn with time

Spells whisper lullabies 

While something sinister

Peeks from a dark corner

The shadowy fingers 

Of poor tortured souls

Wrap their cold talons 

Around rusted silverware

That lie next to broken bottles

Carelessly left upon the floor

Trampled by boots of fear and anger

It was the witching hour

I awoke to fire and shouts

They took me from my chambers

Claims of voodoo spat from their lips

Nameless faces blurred by rage

Trying to erase my existence

And to cleanse their own souls

With crosses in hand

My life was cut short 

On the branches of a willow tree

Though I no longer live

My spirit still remains

Kept by resentment

I am everywhere all at once

Moonlight on the water

Dust in the corners of the hut

The slight creak in the floorboards

The soft murmur of the reeds

In the darkness I linger

Eternally simmering in silence 

A flick of the wrist

There goes my new red polish.

How careless am I?

How far must I go

to reach the flower fields,

Past everything I know?

How terribly tiring,

I know I'll do it, though.

At the urgings of someone

Much smarter than I

I cannot stop until I'm done.

These flowers you speak of,

How fast must I run?

As I watch my future blossom,

sweet-smelling and vibrant,

I ponder what I will become

when I reach the flower fields

and sprout into such stardom.

What a terrible thing I have done,

a monster I have become.

It's truly such a shame,

but my secret must remain.

I enjoy knowing the untold,

and relish in the power I hold.

While others may forget,

my actions I do not regret.

This dreadful deed

hailing from my own greed,

will sadly go unsaid,

I've chosen secrecy instead.