The night and spirits cultivate a loss of inhibitions. Seeds of alchemy thrive when sown within the right conditions. Deep-rooted elements aren't enough of an admonition. Dark magicians need not ask for any one's permission.
A sip of potion, a wave of a wand will have one under submission. Tapping into deep set yearnings, moving one into position to haze the mind and block the gut from heeding intuition. An alluring facade, enticing glance to disarm all suspicion.
Charmed, one is lured to acts that call for contrition. To give more than one should or would then beg for absolution. Wanting more than logical by one's wiser cognition. Held in place by a pretty face, the key to lust's ignition.
Spellbound one is bent to the conjurer's volition. Sleep must wait 'cause in the dark one's will is in attrition. Time's been slowed to prolong the captor's requisition. But there is hope so ride the wave of this brief expedition.
The spell will fade upon the rays of the sun's emission. The sweet song of the morning choir announces revocation. All in life is but a stint inclusive of damnation, experience the breadth of sentimental phase transition.
They day is bright and has no room for lingering apprehensions. What transpired in caliginosity is not set disposition. Let nightfall trigger lessons from time spent in immuration but give no power to the pull of magnetic superstition.
Keep the darkness and the light in constant juxtaposition. When bewitched know the light will bring forth demolition. As a rule, don't live life in constant premonition but life is magic and demands one's full participation.
A sip of potion, a wave of a wand will have one under submission. Tapping into deep set yearnings, moving one into position to haze the mind and block the gut from heeding intuition. An alluring facade, enticing glance to disarm all suspicion.
Charmed, one is lured to acts that call for contrition. To give more than one should or would then beg for absolution. Wanting more than logical by one's wiser cognition. Held in place by a pretty face, the key to lust's ignition.
Spellbound one is bent to the conjurer's volition. Sleep must wait 'cause in the dark one's will is in attrition. Time's been slowed to prolong the captor's requisition. But there is hope so ride the wave of this brief expedition.
The spell will fade upon the rays of the sun's emission. The sweet song of the morning choir announces revocation. All in life is but a stint inclusive of damnation, experience the breadth of sentimental phase transition.
They day is bright and has no room for lingering apprehensions. What transpired in caliginosity is not set disposition. Let nightfall trigger lessons from time spent in immuration but give no power to the pull of magnetic superstition.
Keep the darkness and the light in constant juxtaposition. When bewitched know the light will bring forth demolition. As a rule, don't live life in constant premonition but life is magic and demands one's full participation.
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