A sorcerer readies his or her character

Chance to score readily consumed ire

Pyre from their hands burned t Father

And yet their own self learns 2 admire

What wealth and weathered wonders

Grew within, sin absent, hoping 4 hire

Does anyone else see they ar sweeter

When compassion is a frequent flyer

In the heart to define the mind; ignore

If u don’t think t would go even higher

Strange I know how cruel can b ruler

And I’ve walked alone when alls dire

How do I know I can rely on another

If they too dumb to think ‘t has wire’

So - I ask - Why do you get meaner

When t choose to be more of a liar

It is of a simple game that t player

t see if you are a rose o bush briar