Magicka
Draconian Master of the Arcane A mystic enigma without a name A conjurer, sought by the guild Hunted, outlawed, you see you kill Smoke and mirrors Trick of the mind Stolen relics- From back in time Rogue Mystic, Freedom to roam Amulet, spellcasters tome Rogue Mystic, Cast from his home Amulet, spellcasters tome Hunted down by his former creed Hunted for the utmost greed Hunted for his travesties Draconian Master of the Arcane A mystic enigma without a name A stolen amulet hidden below his beard A mystic artefact that he commandeered A conjurer, sought by the guild Hunted, outlawed, you see you kill Smoke and mirrors, Trick of the mind Stolen relics- From back in time Rogue Mystic, Freedom to roam Amulet, spellcasters tome Rogue Mystic, Cast from his home Amulet, spellcasters tome Hunted down by his former creed Hunted for his travesties Hunted for the utmost greed DRACONIAN MASTER OF THE ARCANE A MYSTIC ENIGMA WITHOUT A NAME
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 29, 2026
The Dictator makes his presence in the street Royal wolf walking among bleeting sheep There's something not right about how the wind blows There's a smell in the air thats funny on his nose He hears the whispers; never heard the malicous intent He never picked up on that superstitous scent With a push and shove his senses are thrown Usually he'd heed the threats of the crone That conspriring bastard smiles, his eyes an arch "That washed-up soothsayer bewares the Ides of March" Beware the Ides of March He who wrote the calender, Makes his presence in the street Royal Wolf, sceptical of the sheep Treachery lingers around him -circling the senate The deviant ruse of safety they pretended A glance in Brutus' eyes seals his fate A repsonsive leer tells Caeser now is late A stab in the back isnt the act that offended It's brought to light that his death was impended That conspiring bastard smiles, with his eyes an arch That washed-up soothsayer, bewares the Ides of March Beware the Ides of March
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 29, 2026
Segregated village, shipwrecked bay Locals fear the evil games he plays Unbeknownst to them, he's in control They're all in the act and they all play a role Wicked magic- for demented ends Mortal life as currency, the warlock spends Oblivious to Him with his cloaked facade Just a haggard man in a mountain, who's gone mad The Warlocks cackle echoes through the valley Black sheep who follow, at the foothills they rally Marionettes, in his grand design To march the villagers deep into the mine In the depths of the dark, brainwashed, soldiers Black candle ashes and pentacle smoulders Wicked magic- for demented ends Mortal life as currency, the warlock spends Oblivious to Him with his cloaked facade Just a haggard man in a mountain, who's gone mad He lifts back his hood and from below his guise He looks at each of them, right in the eyes The cloak, drops to the floor--and through the dust- he's vanished Death is coming to those, who had him banished The warlock cackles.-alongside his legion He's enslaved this village, Now to doom the whole region No escape from demise, When the sky rips and crackles Louder than thunder, the Warlock cackles
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 29, 2026
Only scarabs survived the fire- An empire with a Queen on the throne Stone from our cities built their spire, a bestial infra-order summoned to grow Meadows and cities dissipate- chewed by the jaws, swallowed by the mouth Havoc- used to reach the clouds, coveting the sky brought the drought What used to be rolling plain Has now turned to sand How many years without the rain? Queen of the scarabs now Queen of the land Plague of the scarabs Desert dogma lifts Queen of the scarabs Dogs of war, let slip An iron-handed cornucopia, swarming scarabs ravenous to claim Expanding their Utopia, they want the sky now that this world is in flames By the clench of her fist, the desert sculpts itself under her handicraft A relic not thought to exist, makes the crocodiles cry as the jackals laugh What used to be rolling plain Has now turned to sand How many years without the rain? Queen of the scarabs now Queen of the land Plague of the scarabs Desert dogma lifts Queen of the scarabs Dogs of war, let slip The Desert was sculpted, by her handicraft The crocodile cries - As the jackal laughs Chewed by the jaws, swallowed by the mouth Coveting the sky brought the drought
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 29, 2026
I've found myself in the darkness, amongst the trees I turn myself towards a branch with a noose, labelled for me The devil came to me and said I should be dead He ran his finger-nail down my forehead He carved an inverted cross and it trickled red I shiver at what he says "Its better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven" I'm gonna one up my master so I'm 667 I accepted his offer with gratuity Little does he know the devil will soon be me Annointed by the council who instil mortal fright Devils sword to coronate passes by each ears, left then right A standing ovation from the henchmen of Hades Finally rewarded for the cruciality of my evil deeds "Its better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven" I'm gonna one up my master so I'm 667 I accepted his offer with gratuity Little does he know the devil will soon be me Backwards he recited me the book of the damned Then he placed his royal dagger in my hand I'm the only one here thats alive The demons see and know I'll reign hell with insight Backwards he recited me the book of the damned Then he placed that royal dagger in my hand
Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Jun 29, 2026