A spell beneath the surface
Invokes its will to every man,
The caster you will never know,
His name, his face, his thoughts and will,
These features he will never show,
Sometimes it’s strong,
Sometimes just observant,
Sometimes a snake, sometimes a serpent of the sea,
You’ll feel a pinch or strain,
Never seeing the cause of the pain,
The message can be vivid, it can be grim,
At other times soft and dim,
It’s the idle thoughts,
It’s those high concepts,
Only lasting a passing whim,
Every story has a hero,
Every tale a villain tells,
But each, in some way or manner,
Is led by someone else,
The one who casts the silent spell
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