My strength lies in the foolishness of warlocks,
For theirs is the tragedy, weakness, despair.
Bright colors, burning flames, both fed by the air.
My waters are stronger than all of these things,
Bright colors they fade in the wash of my hand
Flames choke and die out at my simple command.
Angry God of the Fire, ha! sweet hungry warlock,
Know you nothing of water and how it does thrive?
Think you truly that I cannot change and survive?
You speak of raping, ravaging, consumption,
But truly your flame is too weak for my storm,
Your burning desire allows me to transform!
Sweet Hungry Warlock, Lost God of the Fire,
Your flames you retract and you see nothing there
But I simply changed form and am mist in the air.
As I stand near your warmth I am filled with despair,
But despair is not mine though it does change my hue
I only reflect that which resides deep within you.
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