I have been raided
time and time again
by much weaker men
that stole the best bits of me
to sell them to a market
full of all of their future lovers
and they take my prized knowledge
while they pawn the weight of my words
they sell every spell I wrote
to somebody like it’s their own
they will win over others
using the material of which I am made
and they do it all
as they rip out the pieces
of my brilliant heart

but what they have forgotten
is that what they’ve stolen
will not last them forever
and when they run out
I will still be here
making gold
out of absolutely nothing