No,
Rough, jaded man.
Your stern derision flagellating the cowardly.
Some call it vibes.
Others,
Perverse charisma.
I refer to it,
As bending reality to your whims,
Or wants.
Everything boils down to systems.
Even the seemingly chaotic.
Pattern Recognition Symphonies.
I’m an atheist witch,
Rare,
Amongst a world that tried to kill me.
I would rather give my everything,
To what comes next.
The next iterations,
Beyond ourselves.
Warping reality,
Is not a right.
It’s a responsibility.
From Social Engineering,
To carrying on legacies.
My magic,
At the end of the day –
Is nothing but fancy words.
Nothing But Fancy Words \\ Perverse Charisma.
