The Witching Stars

This world is full of evil. It takes no sight, nor sound, nor taste, not even smell to acknowledge it. You feel it in your bones. It’s in the land; in the air… it’s in the people. Those very people, call me evil incarnate. How can I be evil, when all those around me commit crimes I have never done? There is no blood on my hand. No glint in my eyes. Yet they call me a deceiver… or in other tongues… a demon. Some days, I find myself wondering why? Why all this hate? Why me?