#sorcerer
Salut—welcome to Madam’s little fortune shop
Where you can see your own fate within an incense drop
My horns shimmer with necklaces that defeats all hexes
And my weapon is a skull of luck for both of the sexes
Now come and rest your left palm on this pentagram
I assure you that this is not a satanic scam
Cards shall give out a tale born from your consequences
As well as the horoscope that’ll mess with all five senses
I can pin a previous life and death within a single scar
I can name all your relatives as far as ones in alcazar
Withdraws are The Sun, The Moon, The Lovers, The Fool,
Listen to the revelations of storylines on your stool
With the Debut of Temperance, The Devil, the Hierophant,
Listen to the ways to avoid a man who is a sycophant
Pick a number from any of my twelve golden coins
To reveal a former lover that one day you shall rejoin
Now kindly look past the glimmers of my crystal ball
And you’ll see just how much your fortune can rise or fall
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 8:49 PM UTC
I go out, a sorcerer, in the dark, damp, early morning air
flicking my eyes towards the shadow of a passing thought
shedding my skin for the coming day.
That song comes on, and I try not to let it register.
We are, all of us, whirling galaxies
asleep but awake
crashing
crashing
into one another
and then falling apart
again and again
"...nice to hold...when I'm tired..."
A breeze sends a chill down my spine
and I realize
I let myself fall sad
an oak tree struck by lightning
"...when I die...will I go..."
I go out, a sorcerer, in the dark, damp early morning air.
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC
Antihero
An old stone built tower stands above all on the skyline;
The curves of its body twisting spiral’s in the air.
The moon shines around its peak, which reaches up so very high.
It is surrounded by a castle keep,
That is an image of a burnt out nightmare.
The castle walls are in pieces, like its people,
Cannon fodder their game.
The drawbridge has fallen, but the iron gate still remains.
The shadows in the night speak of a desire to be the enemy within.
The voices of the fallen spit out their final endless scream’s.
The sound of war is upon the castle door.
No more escape for its inhabitants,
Apart from those who are fleeing through the century old tunnel.
The secret passage to a way away from all the savage.
The army continues to do battle, at the top of ladders and ramparts.
All have been affected by this battle’s damage.
The sorcerer of this cursed land,
Stands in the furthest, most high room,
Shooting lightning at the wall tops as the chaos reigns below,
Where all is doom
And in a final decisive action,
The sorcerer reads from his big black book;
The ground shakes, the fire falls and all enemy are shook
And thrown from their steeds in front of the castle gate.
In pieces they bleed and from the tops of the castle walls,
Those who are falling will never be saved.
They crash to the floor and become no more.
The sorcerer falls to his knees, exhausted of power,
But he has put an end to this midnight war.
No protection was given by the enemies armour.
Their swords and shields crashed loudly as they hit the ground.
The enemy is no longer the invading warrior;
They are all running in fear and their last sounds are all dying out.
As the sorcerer takes the final step down from his twisted tower,
He pushes open the thick oak wooden door.
As he walks out into the open air courtyard his face is a glower;
No living enemy can be seen, because the enemy are no more.
His men are all cheering and shouting his name,
But the sorcerer is not laughing with them, for he has a plan.
He tells them this morrow they will all fight again,
So they must all prepare to once more stand.
Some voices of discontent whisper within the ranks;
Some of them openly criticize his view.
As he creates a ball of flame that hovers above the palm of his hand,
They all realize he has been their antihero
And he could be their demise too…if he chooses to.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 8:51 PM UTC
Nobody understands you
I want to know
Why you ****
The pain you cause
You make warriors fall to their knees
Everybody worships you
You haunt nightmares
You are an evil sorcerer
Your prison locks away the forgotten
In a place where
Creativity, imagination, and color
They do not exist
They are not welcome
I hate you Death
You have taken from me
You thief!
You are evil
You torture my mind
My body screams for the pain to stop
You **** me from the inside out
You possess my thoughts
There is nothing worse
You filthy liar! You cheater!
I hope you suffer beyond belief!
I hate you, Death
And yet,
Without you
There would still be pain
Sorrow
Torture
You end all that
With one movement
What is worse than death?
Many, many are worse than Death
You may be a devil, Death
I will never understand you
But
You have helped me through life
And when it is my time to end
I will do it willingly
Thank you, Death
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 8:18 AM UTC
the man had hypnotic power
he drew people in
they thought he was of charismatic
skin
whatever he'd say or do
they'd so senselessly agree to
as if they were blinded
by a beguiling view
gullible they who didn't closely
examine what he was about
below the veneer's surface
lay a slimy feigning trout
naive to his sham
so
fake
the
appeal
a
misrepresentation
of
the
real
deal
trusting the sorcerer's
pretend magnetism
they'd been attracted
into a shadowy prism
does the mind recall
Jim Jones or Charlie Manson?
having
a
strong
pulling
coax
these
characters
could
stage
a
moth
to
a
flame
hoax
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 5:10 PM UTC
they were little princes
tied with ropes
suspended like marionettes
linked to the will of the sorcerer
they were birds with clipped wings
so they could not fly
never go back to home
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 8:39 AM UTC
the
cauldron's
strong potion
was manifest
in a dire toxin
simmering to the pot's rim
this was a stupid portent
doom would be destine to prevail
the elements mixed in error
which ensured a disaster's outcome
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
bad omens were foretold by the recipe
the black sorcerer no smart blender
to late to change the concoction
it boiled over then blew
he'd not been very careful
in how magic works
such a novice
with dark spells
oh so
silly
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 8:10 PM UTC