Succeptable To Suggestion

Alleviate, with the contours of brevity,
just a modicum, of your bright despair.
Your aura, orange blossoms all on fire,
why your complexion looks most fair.

I do not share your enthusiasm at all,
for the dramas you desire in defense.
To cloaking the real intents you install,
through parlor tricks and sixth sense.

Wicca as wisdom is a gainful employ,
but left-handed offense is pagan rite.
Your antics to me, just common goy,
are invitation, bringing my own might.

No dual of Gods or belief to convene,
on behalf your most vile incantation.
Furthermore, my likeness is obscene,
in that doll-like talisman of aberration.

So take your battles somewhere else,
of Gods, one isn't bigger than another.
Desist this game at once, for it entails,
I kick your *ss, or I go tell your mother.

Now listen, just be gone, I firmly insist,
this showing off is absurd, defies belief.
I'll flatten your druthers, if you try resist,
as soon this pain in my side gets relief!

TBollinger