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The Magician´s Curse
Prometheus´s fire burns
deep in the eyes of the
Master, cherishing the
gift of Gods wrath.
To arise the spirits
of the deep, Poseidon´s
trident stolen by a
soul thief.
Naiades trickery at
its worse, the vultures
feast upon their charge
for all eternity.
Charon cheated of
his fair, so the souls
left stranded are easy
to be plucked by the
Spellcrafter.
Silver arrow of Airtimes
seeking the path that is
just and true to pierce the
breast of a foul deed worker.
His body fallen to his
knees, in mock praise
of Apollo´s golden flame,
laughter as he becomes
Raven soul bearer.
Escaping the fate
bestowed upon him
ever hunted by the
Gods.
Wander no in
Morpheus´s maze,
trapped where he can
only torment the night
dreamers.
Still his cry may be
heard, his shadow
seen, wicked wills
woven under stooped
brow.
Where freedom he will
never know, there be
no freedom from his
mold.
9:41 PM - 2/9/2006 -
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