Note: This poem is in no way trying to put down Wiccans.
If anything, this poem is pointed at the "fluffs".
I do not hate fluffs or wiccans... but I like to laugh, so I made this.
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Oh please kill the Wiccans, the stupid, petty Wiccans.
For there is no room on this earth for those heartless little Wiccans.
They cast spells and light candles, they dance around in circles with nature's sandles.
They'll burn down a forest, and pollute the earth, they feel really bad and repent to Mother Earth.

Now it's time to load up my shells.
I'll awake at dawn when I hear their bells.
And down into the forest I will go, down into the bushes is where I lay low.

I see them coming,
one by one,
smiling, laughing, admiring the Father Sun.

I set my aim straight for the sky,
oops, I misfired and shot out a Wiccans eye.

One down and plenty more to go,
the Wiccans all scatter, ah, what a show.
I stand and shoot off a couple of more rounds, I laugh as I hear their beautiful sounds.
Blood and guts, oh what a delight, dead Wiccans everywhere, you should have seen the sight.

And as I walk away, I say, "We will continue the fight, for tomorrow will be another Wiccan Killing Night."