Magician

Master Magician, how well you play your games;

Weaving your spells of love, hate, sex and pain, believing your own lies–your a madman, what a shame;

Master of Illusion, standing in your hall of mirrors, playing your tricks of smoke;

You think your feelings are real in the single-minded focus of your lustful will, you play with Woman’s heart;

Until you reach the end you seek, then the created fantasy dissipates even as you speak;

The smoke clears and the mirrors crack, the delusions fade away, the scales fall from your eyes and into the flames, and your left staring only at your face in your hall of hell, and you ask yourself, “From whence comes the sound of that ominous bell?”