When called a witch, the Spirit in me flowed,
Vibrated fiery flame and blue hot might.
To see how Hell would on His Lamb bestow
A disobedience, pretend it's right.
How strange when others would then call you names.
The Hell in them they seek to spill on you,
With forked tongue the snake would play his games,
Seduce the Chosen; lie and say it's truth.
His lamb is holy ground. Death has no place,
In us, nor hate, nor fear, nor doubt, nor lies.
God's love makes whole and heals with fullest grace,
The lambs the worldly folks hate and despise.
Oh mercy Lord on those who name call you.
Open their eyes to see your Spiritual truths.