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How Was I To Know, by Jack Sorenson
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How Was I To Know, by Jack Sorenson.

The wizard said in a hush whisper. As the wind brushed up against his heavy cloak.
In those last few moments, between our lives; that were unseen, as our darkness, is well cloaked.
In humans hearts, hides forbidden arts= more treasures in cages locked away.
While a victim rages= is looking for the key to unlock there creative edge.
For=his last breathe to take place, the poor savages, even do wonder, if we come from down under.

The cloaked of deaths darkness became developed. We continue to callously! Treat for the darkness, which engulfed us as not, a foe but, as a friend.
Life as our tapestry is our safety.
Undone at the seams we are the horror, runs deep inside of all of us.=div>There is life, within death, the wizards had said?
True, so true thus, he spoke correctly!

It's like life with out magic?
You neith=r see nor need to take a last breath.
And there is death within life.

He motion with his index finger, which hung a tiny sliver belle.
We =ust stand and fight tighter either way.
He demanded as the bell dangled.
Only to give one tune as the wind stirred it counter clockwise.

Fight that bad feeling when we get scared
Or comes in the hopelessness.
Comes and brings, out that terrible sublimed act; we all play out in death
In fact, death takes us a hold, by the hand and never seemly let go.
Our smile is gone, and so is our happiness, extinguise.

What we are, is Time, past and the presents failed us
And have become? Lifeless, on active,
That's what the wizards cloak in raven feathers softly muttered.
We must see what tomorrow will do for us--
Human will he told, brings in happiness, and our life's to come back.

To the edges were we last saw that magic. The light!
We have to make that come by our own magic, which lay's deep inside
From within ourselves, we our are own life circle,
Magic he told as the index finger just dangled to tinkle o=t a sweet tune.

Foreword like magic, into the light he shouted!
That brings us that smile, that laugher, wayward come back.
As the bell tools in your home-
Same as on=the filed standing with the wizard.
Raven now fly over head.
The grim feeling quickly faded back.
Its=back before you now must face it tighter.
His faceless spit it once again came a glow.
And this time come prepared to
Fight back and win that old self back with our dead souls.

So I stood there at the gate of the graveyard?
As I saw us there too, we didn't fight, we cave in and gave in.
Than I awoke, we were in our homes, still conjuring up enough magic,
to protect ourselves, for harms many ways.
That being to overly protective minds only can create.

I just marveled by all the deaths he concurred.
How many times we could have wont the battle over depression.
In a day by waving that magic wand, to make us all well.
If only it could be- only if we could lift our head above our pillow to just do so.
So I stood there, and thanked the dark cloaked wizard,
In that I could still hear my breath, as yours.
His magic, made =s grow, even in our death.
The Morning clouds in cloaked the sky.
Rain may be on the way,
As the war =rums were louder than the thunder.

Truly more hutment day by there means.
On the battlefield, they waited,
penitence's ran thin.

The horses needed, water standing
on=all fours throughout the night.
That magical advantaged as well,
as all any man could think of was
saying his many prayers on horseback before his King.

The dark magic, which a wizard can conjure, was set.

Before the battle began, only by his quick thinking came easily and very divided between two kings.
The lighting mysteriously strikes twice.
Th= first horsemen fell down,
healed dead, on the battle file that day.
The ground before the filed rumbled.
Fear came in all there eyes.
Many horses bolted
and ran toward the back of the hills.

The opposing army will have their day,
solders mounted on amity morning,
Came the second day,

Clouds in the sky came darken without warning,
the wizard walks by a line of horsemen on a hill
Casting his shadow, weaving his spells.
On willi=g to one knight on horseback.
Who will be crowned king?

Long black cloak, frilled by the weeds
Tinkling a sliver bell,
dangled from one extended boney like finger.

Never speaking in rhymes, while conjuring in Latin.
And heavy gear dorn shinny armor,
steam comes from worries horses.

Cloaked in mystery lyrics spells cast.
Flying through the clouds of the morning.
Red eyes beaming as the wizard stood alone on the battlefield.
Only now, with the knight on the battlefield.

Chanting one death spell after another.
The song= of the pureness of evil.
That lived in blackness, came along.
Weaved to come forward willing.

As the demission morning sky's
suddenly turns to black,
cease to be the wizard's death spell spoken.
Only brought out ravens that have Broken the souls of the newly dead
to there path to heaven.

Those men may raise stepping stones.
A spider's web is woven across the sky;
with morning lighting strikes to the earth
t=e will for the solders here'd all the cries.

Action is now needed to fight for the right. And never let dead men speak of it,
or they'll not find there way to hell
. Or surly, be lost to the gates to heaven,
only the Shadow cloaked wizard,
=new the sigh come from head to there toe.

Were there the few willing?
Will all end up engulfed?
By the raven darkness spells came aloud.
The enchanted spells, was chanted forward.

By the raven that fled from the wizards shadow.
From the battle field over head.
A rain dismal cloud posses the earth,
if sleep and death be truly one,
Will be presented to the land today!

Past the battlefield and over the valley,
on the west end stands,
The many graves of the dead
The beauty of the dark clouds

Gives us all due notices?
Toad coming early falls,
just beyond on the horizon.
Byte mayflower last bloom.
That seemly will die by nightfall,
sinner will come to past-
Th= valley of headstones,
shown brilliantly in the moonlight!
Now the wizards conjured up the darkness-
Come alive through the raven cries,
heist of the fog engulfs us,
callback to the battlefield once more.
Now they too the newly dead,
must stand next to the wizard cloaked.
With raven feathers for a new spell awaited!
To come back and fight nevermore,
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How Was I To Know, by Jack Sorenson