The Rat Coven is a nickname affectionally given to Lucy and I from Dad. It came about after a solid week where we tried to twerk every time he wasn’t looking, and then laugh at him for it. (The wonders of teen daughters. We are a charming bunch.) So, he called us the Rat Coven as a joke. Little did he know, it spiraled into matching t-shirts, a sense of pride in our goblinry, and this poem:
O shame upon the witchlet
Whose cauldron layeth bare—
Whose moonlight goes un-siphoned
Whose heart can quickly scare…
Shame upon the witchlet
Who shies under social gaze—
Who abandoneth her truest being
For the passing folly phase…
And mostly shame upon
The vermin who doth spite—
Who dares to mock the sacred way
Of sorcery in darkest night…
The witches swarm together
To thrive under any cursed sky—
The Rat Coven forms a sister’s bond
Unbroken, might forces try.
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