The wind whispers and the voices call

Yet I am deaf to the sound

Eyes open and heart burning

Grasping for things not seen

 Hoping for that which Is not mine

Casting a spell outward to ensnare

Weaving a web so tight and dark

Escape would not be possible

Unless you think yourself

A magician of sorts

A conjurer of power

By candlelight I plot my revenge

A smile curving my lips imagining

Reveling in your despair and pain

Knowing you cannot see this

It is that one true thing

That you do not know

I have the knowledge you seek

But you shall not be able to pry

You will not be able to see

For my incantation is real

And my powers inescapable

I am everlasting

And you

You are disposable

You are simple

You are nothing .


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