I.
These potions
On potions
In glass bottles bear
The smoke
and the luster
of hyena hair
Frog sweat
Snake skin
And the eye of a newt
With the drool
Of a goat
And raven’s foot
The medium
For spells
Both far and wide
The casting
Of words
That fill the eye
When the potion
Meet words
They do foretell
Of a tall
And deep
Wishing well
II.
Your indigo burns
Like passion
For power too far
Beyond the tips
Of your fingers lies
An imbalance unknown
You wield power
And sway your sword
In the forest full of souls
You clear cut
As far as you see
Standing tall
And alone
III.
The wand
Is woven
With the hair
Of a mule that brushed on rock
The descent
Was none
Other than
Purgatory Chasm in the dimmed sun
I have sisters
Who feed on the dark
Cistern of pain with pleasure
I am one
Who feeds on the light
So those who pass may enter
Conjured with chalk
On the slanted rocks
Forming a triangle from an angle
I rub the chalk
On my brow
And clap
To reveal the whitest rainbow.
Image sources:
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