Roserah's music was born from a place of spiritual worship and love, a real transformation that turns pain into praise and wounds into wisdom. Sound that lives in the alchemy of the soul, the sacred process of taking what's broken, hurting, or unforgiven and refining it into something whole.

When you seek the living God with all your heart, you will find Him, in Spirit and truth. He will heal your soul, opening the Eden within, the garden of your heart.

My Therapy bears witness to that healing, alchemizing the soul through the love of God, one song at a time.

When love moves nothing can stop it.

To learn more about our music visit Roserah.com

© 2026 Roserah All rights reserved.

You will get a MP3 (23MB) file

Witchcraft Mouth

Verse 1

I don't need a circle or a candle in the dark

To leave a mark on someone when I've never known their heart:

A verdict on their motive, a sentence on their soul,

A curse dressed up as wisdom from a mouth out of control.

If I have not walked their story, I will not throw the stone;

The mouth can be an altar or a weapon of its own.

Chorus

Witchcraft is a word that judges what it cannot see,

A curse sent through a comment, a blade dressed up as speech;

Every word I scatter takes root like a seed;

Any word that hardens hearts is a grave I will not feed.

Till I've broken bread beside them, I won't name a single sin;

I won't paint my anger holy and then call the Spirit in.

Let God keep the gavel, and my judgments, every one;

No more spells in everyday speech, no more damage done.

So I'm learning a new language, and I'm learning to refrain;

I won't name someone's demon when I cannot see their pain.

Verse 2

Witchcraft wears a microphone; witchcraft wears a feed,

Anytime the mouth condemns a heart it cannot see.

If I don't know where they've been, my judgment is in vain;

Instead, I'll love them close enough to help them heal their pain.

The mouth was made for blessing, not curses dressed up as care,

So I trade the curse for kindness, and I lift them up in prayer.

Chorus

Witchcraft is a word that judges what it cannot see,

A curse sent through a comment, a blade dressed up as speech;

Every word I scatter takes root like a seed;

Any word that hardens hearts is a grave I will not feed.

Till I've broken bread beside them, I won't name a single sin;

I won't paint my anger holy and then call the Spirit in.

Let God keep the gavel, and my judgments, every one;

No more spells in everyday speech, no more damage done.

So I'm learning a new language, and I'm learning to refrain;

I won't name someone's demon when I cannot see their pain.

Verse 3

I have been the target, and I have been the tongue;

I know a single sentence can outlive the breath it's from.

I used to call it discernment, but discernment sees the light;

I only saw their shadow, and I judged them by the night.

So I'll speak the kind of words that help a garden start;

The only mark I want to leave is love across their heart.

Chorus

Witchcraft is a word that judges what it cannot see,

A curse sent through a comment, a blade dressed up as speech;

Every word I scatter takes root like a seed;

Any word that hardens hearts is a grave I will not feed.

Till I've broken bread beside them, I won't name a single sin;

I won't paint my anger holy and then call the Spirit in.

Let God keep the gavel, and my judgments, every one;

No more spells in everyday speech, no more damage done.

So I'm learning a new language, and I'm learning to refrain;

I won't name someone's demon when I cannot see their pain.

Bridge

Envy, strife, and spite are practiced in the heart,

Released and spoken in every fight we start.

Cursing isn't courage, and harshness isn't sight;

Demonizing people never turned the dark to light.

Five minutes with a stranger doesn't tell me who they are;

I only see the surface; only God can see their heart.

So I close the spell book sitting right behind my lips,

And I offer them a blessing where the venom used to drip.

Final Chorus

Blessing is a word that hopes for what it cannot see,

A kindness in a comment, a hand held out in speech;

Every word I scatter takes root like a seed,

And any word that softens hearts is a garden I will feed.

I have broken bread beside them, and I love them as my kin;

I have laid my anger down, and I let the Spirit in.

Let God keep the gavel, and my judgments, every one;

I'll speak life in everyday speech, and let His will be done.

Now I'm fluent in a new language, and blessing falls like rain;

I'll name the gift inside them, and I'll help them heal their pain.

Outro

Set the stone down; light the lamp;

Let the curses fall away;

I don't have to know their heart

To love them anyway.

So let my words come as kindness,

Or let them not be said;

Let every seed I scatter

Grow something good instead.

I've quit the craft of cursing;

That's a sword I will not use;

My mouth was made for blessing,

And that's the one I choose.