I Am A Sorcerer
Alakazam taunting the hearts till blood
Drips at intervals, begetting a flood
That gulps and sweeps iota of courage
Into the dam of dread; brooding by age.
Hearts in confetti hanging on wish wall,
Hyper sensitive dehydrated galls.
Incantations weilded by severed tongues,
Nectar of vexations with pleasant touch,
Hearts lured into the carnage of mirage,
Guts in flames, splitting the nebulous fates.
Torpedo trailing the waves of promise,
Metamorphoses of fortune and wills.
Words with the face of the sun: cute and fair.
If by these I’m flawed, who’s a Sorcerer?
19:09:06:13:50
Ancestral Trail 