Once a kind-hearted and gentle girl, Emma never imagined that she would one day be metamorphosed into a witch. She had always been the epitome of goodness, always willing to lend a helping hand and bring joy to others. But life had a way of throwing unexpected twists and turns, and Emma found herself caught in the grip of darkness. It all started when Emma's mother fell ill and there seemed to be no cure in sight. Desperate for a solution, Emma ventured into the mystical world of potions and spells. She became consumed with a desire to save her mother, to bring back the sparkle in her eyes and the warmth in her smile.
You want to figure out what the heck just has happened. Now the boat DOES get rocked.
You might be afraid of your own power and greatness when in truth it s freaking awesome, you feel alive, tingles in your fingertips and your system is running on plain orgasmic enthusiasm. A name that not only reflected my devotion to Aphrodite and Aphrodisian energy, but also tied neatly into the art side of the business, which Aphrodite is extremely prominent in.
She became consumed with a desire to save her mother, to bring back the sparkle in her eyes and the warmth in her smile. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, as Emma delved deeper into the dark arts. Every waking moment was filled with the search for a cure, for a way to reverse the irrevocable.
METAMORPHOSIS: A WITCH ON THE CUSP OF TURNING 40
I realise that I’ve been a witch locked up in a tower, suffocating from the reverberations of her own insanity which have been echoing back and forth across the blank stone walls for like, eternity.
I realise that I’ve been a princess, choked by the agony of my own contorted diamond crown which has only served to further the erroneous, mistaken and downright lying bitch lie that I’m virginal, safe, clean, white and pure.
Well I’ve travelled, am travelling, and have descended to my lowest depths now. To the proverbial dungeon of all my forgotten dreams only to discover that the white flocking birds are no longer flocking, they simply vanish into dust and as I rummage below the dirty barrels of time something else starts to emerge.
Something hidden and unexplored.
A rabbit hole into Alice’s dance of dreamless and formless creation.
A world where night is day and day is night and all the lowly creatures are in fact gifts sent from heaven; here to help us uncover the ineffable, unfathomable truth of who we really are.
From the underwater caverns, the waves lap against my legs and I disappear. I dissolve into time or rather I am sucked up into the voidness that births time itself and am allowed to be reborn anew.
Reborn into non-human formless formlessness. Into a world of liars and cheats, that stilettoed street walk into a red light district, the clicks, clicking against forbidden pavements and whining brows.
Reborn to a place where parched, dried up, burning, searing, desert breeds hunger and violence and animal blood thirsty passages of rite.
A place where wildness wings a prayer and where the howling wilderness drops down into the aching muggy dews of death, of life, of something that I can’t describe or explain, some kind of … stuff.
There’s a pause; question: what is real anymore?
A cold shiver trails the whispering wind, a tongue licks a quivering, trembling neck. A claw is revealed, a fang saliva-drips, and all that I know is I’m home.
Where wild things are. Where wildness breeds. Where I am impregnated with the seed of immortality, to birth lust and desire and the magician’s breast of … Metamorphosis.
Obsolete drafts of human templates.
Shape-shifting, animal-dying, immortal, agonistic bliss.
‘Love me’ the Universe cries out, take me here, take me now, let me render you into renderless form from un-rendered hell and a moment in time, a drop of dew, on a leaf. Here. In the forest. Where the caterpillar is born. Where the caterpillar dies. Where the caterpillar births.
Where the caterpillar births the butterfly. Where the chrysalis inhales, in-breeds, and swollen, dying faces are strangled out of the light and into the breathless, airless, darkness of rebirth. Of Metamorphosis.
Of giving up everything you have ever known, of just giving it up. Tossing it into the dying embers of time.
Of laying your bare breast down to be given to the knife, to the fire, to the ultimate sacrifice that delivers you home.
Of watching everything you have ever loved and cared for be dissolved, like bones dying to the dust, like a sound sailing on borrowed time.
And there only ashes remain.
A pulse; A sound; A movement; A rustle.
A shake of a serpent’s tail. An eyeball rolling back. A squelch of human flesh. Of faeces. Of slime.
Of forbidden-ness, of forbidden-ness, and out of forbidden-ness’ shell, darkness grows. And spreads. A glimmer. A shimmer. A wing. A black feather. Hypnotising. Enchanting. And all of time stands still. And a shudder is heard, reverberating throughout the belly of everything.
And smoke billows in the distance overhead and an eagle prey-swoops down.
And I am there. And I watch, silently. Enmeshed and engrossed in the darkness of my soul, the glimmer of my wing. The beat of my heart against a furry breast.
For I am to, and to is you, and the Blackest Blacked-out Black Ravens soul is mine.
IN CONCLUSION
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As she experimented with different spells and concoctions, a darkness began to settle in her spirit. The whisper of enchantments and the allure of power clouded her judgment and gradually, she lost sight of her initial intentions. The metamorphosis was slow, almost imperceptible at first. But as Emma's obsession with magic grew, so did the darkness within her. The innocence that had once defined her was replaced with a cold, calculating nature. The sparkle in her eyes was now replaced with a steely determination, fueled by an insatiable hunger for power. Friends and loved ones began to notice the change in Emma, but it was too late. She had become an embodiment of the very darkness she sought to conquer. The spells she cast were no longer for healing, but for personal gain. The once kind-hearted girl was now a witch, using her powers to manipulate and control those around her. Emma's transformation into a witch serves as a cautionary tale, a reminder of the dangers of letting our desires consume us. It is a reminder that even the purest of souls can be corrupted by the pursuit of power. And it is a testament to the importance of staying true to oneself, of resisting the seductive call of the dark arts. In the end, Emma's story serves as a reminder that any of us can be susceptible to darkness. We must always be vigilant, always questioning our motives and actions. Otherwise, we risk losing ourselves and becoming something we never thought possible – a witch..
Reviews for "The Power of Femininity: The Witch's Metamorphosis"
1. Jane - 2/5 stars - I was really intrigued by the premise of "Metamorphosed into a witch," but unfortunately, I found it quite disappointing. The story felt disjointed and the characters lacked depth. The pacing was off, with some parts dragging on for too long while others were rushed. I also had a hard time connecting with the main character, as her motivations and actions often felt unclear. Overall, I think the novel had potential, but it fell short of my expectations.
2. Mark - 1/5 stars - I can honestly say that "Metamorphosed into a witch" is one of the worst books I've ever read. The writing was clunky and filled with grammatical errors. The dialogue was stilted and unnatural, making it difficult to believe in the interactions between characters. The plot was also underdeveloped and lacked originality. It felt as if the author was trying to cram too many ideas into a single story, resulting in a convoluted mess. I would not recommend this book to anyone.
3. Sarah - 2/5 stars - While "Metamorphosed into a witch" showed promise, it ultimately fell flat for me. The world-building was weak, leaving me confused about the rules and logic of the magical elements introduced. The protagonist was also quite unlikable, making it hard to root for her throughout the story. Additionally, the pacing was inconsistent, with some parts feeling rushed and others dragging on. The ending was unsatisfying and left many loose ends. Overall, I think there are better witch-themed books out there to invest your time in.