Deep within the circle, 
A sorceress draws a star, 
Not mindful much that, 
A werewolf watches from afar, 
She draws the star around her, 
Her drawing staff embedded in the earth, 
Hoping to witness, 
Hoping to see that werewolf’s rebirth, 
She calls on the spirits, 
From the devil’s pit, 
To come and aid her magic, 
To help her witching kit, 
Deep within the circle, 
The sorceress drops to her knees, 
She sees the far off mountains, 
She sees the wide blue seas, 
But never once does she look, 
At the werewolf standing by, 
Even though it’s poised to howl, 
With its head tilted to the sky, 
She lights the centre fire, 
And throws spices to the flame, 
Not ever even hearing, 
The werewolf call her name, 
She begins to chant under her breath, 
As the spices mar the smoke, 
Never paying attention, 
As the werewolf starts to choke, 
Deep within her circle, 
She casts a spell of blood, 
To turn all wolves into men, 
To turn them back for good, 
But as in the rocky sphere she knelt, 
The spell laid upon her a curse, 
Never like normal woman, 
Would her body ride in a hearse, 
But instead she cries out, 
As she realises her fate, 
She curses out the devils name, 
And for her magic circle she is full of hate, 
She looks at the werewolf, 
A man now his is again, 
She tries to curse him, 
But she doubles up in pain, 
Within her magical circle, 
She slowly turns, 
Into the werewolf, 
While her magic fire burns, 
But weep not for that sorceress, 
Lament not for her soul, 
Her magic circle cursed her, 
And was swallowed by that hole.