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.
Copyright © Esson Alumbugu | Year Posted 2011
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