The three of us are widely known.
We’re each a horrid, haggard crone.
We croak and cry a mournful moan.
A glance at us, you’ll turn to stone.

Our hair is made of living snakes.
To hear their hiss will give you shakes.
We love the savage sound it makes.
We’ll laugh until your spirit breaks.

But solitude is all we crave,
So don’t intrude within our cave.
Regardless if you’re strong or brave,
We’ll send you swiftly to your grave.

As we draw near, your heart will thud.
Your breath with stop, your brain will flood.
Our wicked wail will chill your blood,
And cause your veins to fill with mud.

And if there is the slightest breeze,
Our stench will make you choke and wheeze.
You’ll gasp and tumble to your knees.
We smell like Gorgon-zola cheese.