Black Magic

You did move Cupid's practiced hand By what vile means or flip of wand To strike my heart a poisoned blow And bid this painful ulcer grow. Like bird from tree to tree I flit To skip the toil within your pit And maybe find a potent cure To life of fish before a lure. If only you would hear my plea And drain this magic out of me I'd grab a trident and a sword And be to you a vengeful lord. They say you smuggled something dark By food or drink to slave my heart And force me play this shameful part Of dog to its own mother bark.