Fires of the Magic Art

Come closer child, and feel the heat rising from my hands
For I burn with a hunger for more strength
Than a mere mortal should ever command –
It radiates off me, this obsession for that knowledge
Denied by those unworthy of its truth, as just
An ancient mysticism for science to abolish –
This fever of desire leaves me aching in my bones,
Their rattling a tune of concentrated effort,
To practice, to discover all, until my art is honed –
With scorching intensity I come before the Masters of old
So I can learn at their feet all that it takes
And become worthy of tales of my own to be told –
Like those who came before me, wrongfully mistreated
By the sceptics, fools, and cowards of their ages
Abused, accused, condemned by the fearful men who bleated –
“Save us from that which we cannot hope to achieve ourselves”,
Irrationally testing the ire of their superiors,
But testing witches can be dangerous: they bring you Hell –
The flames of which arise, when I call them by decree
To do my bidding, and curse all of those
Who dare in their ignorance or false beliefs to defy me.

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