The Spell Is Cast

The Spell is Cast

Fire flies from his fists,
Gold and silver wrap his wrists.
Ruins are etched every where,
Hair so dark, skin so fair.

Face a rock, hard and grim,
Fingers unfurl long and slim.
Robes of purple ripple and furl,
Slowly mist begins to swirl.

Eyes of ice pierce your soul,
It has begun as was foretold.
Feel his power black and cold,
Lose yourself as it takes its hold.



©1996 - 2009 Gloria Gypsy