Crystal water turns to dark 
Where ere it's presence leaves it's mark
And boiling currents pound like drums
When something wicked this way comes…

A presence dark invades the fair 
And gives the horses ample scare 
Chaos rains and panic fills the air
When something wicked this way comes... 

Ill winds mark it's fearsome flight, 
And autumn branches creak with fright.
The landscape turns to ashen crumbs,
When something wicked this way comes... 

Flowers bloom as black as night 
Removing color from your sight 
Nightmarish vines block your way 
Thorns reach out to catch their prey 

And by the pricking of your thumbs 
Realize that their poison numbs 
From frightful blooms, rank odors seep 
Bats & beasties fly & creep 

'Cross this evil land, ill winds blow 
Despite the darkness, mushrooms glow 
All will rot & decompose 
For something wicked this way grows.

-- Ray Bradbury
Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes...

-- Macbeth Act 4, Scene 1
William Shakespeare

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