Enigmatic shape changer,
Head and heart and eyes and hands,
To yourself a stranger.
When a traveller all alone
Comes within your sphere,
Why appear as naught but bone?
Do you enjoy his fear?
Or when a youth with broken heart
Sighs for the love he’s lost,
Must you his memory tear apart
And never count the cost?
Must you take sorrows deeply felt
And turn them into torture?
To torment parent, lover, child,
And all their joys to fracture?
To husband, lover, must you show
The loved one, twisted, evil?
You cannot think that they don’t know
Your vision’s from the devil.
So Wizard of the Wasteland bleak,
No matter what you do,
Your visions by their very reek,
Declare themselves untrue.
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