If I were blessed with power in my veins
To make and to destroy as I see fit,
Then rest assured that I would take great pains
To find a quiet place where I can sit
And gather every trace that I can find
Of arcane knowledge, so that bit by bit
In blissful solitude I'd be enshrined,
With everything I need just within reach
In my small nest that's just as I designed,
In the sole company of scrolls that teach
The secrets of an art that men forgot
As one by one they followed those who preach:
“There's no such thing as magic, and you ought
To strive for progress and dismiss those lies,
For spells and all that nonsense are for naught.”
But soon the whispered rumors would arise
Of someone who can do uncanny things
And in a world of fools has remained wise,
Whose voice in a hushed melody still sings
Of times and places that have long gone by,
Of mages, dragons, princesses and kings.
No doubt the first few knockers would be shy
And hang their heads as though in burning shame
Of their
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