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.
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