A Magical Song of Sovereign Mind – Poem By High Priestess

In the marketplace of mortal dreams I stand,

Where whispered lies drift thick as morning mist,

The crowd moves like shadows across the land,

While truth lies bound in chains they can’t resist.

My grimoire holds the ancient, sacred art

Of seeing past the veils that blind the masses,

Each spell I weave strikes deep into the heart

Of those who sleep while wisdom’s moment passes.

The cauldron bubbles with rebellion’s brew,

While crystal balls reveal the hidden snares,

The mundane world bows down to masters few,

But I commune with spirits who still care.

They call me mad, this witch of reason’s flame,

For questioning the gospels they recite,

My tarot cards spell out society’s shame,

As I invoke the powers of inner sight.

The herbs I gather teach me nature’s law,

That conformity breeds poison in the mind,

My rituals cleanse what propaganda saw,

And leave the soul’s true wisdom redefined.

In moon-blessed circles, far from crowd’s embrace,

I cast protection spells ’round thought’s domain,

The runes reveal each mask upon each face,

While alchemy transmutes their golden chain.

My familiars whisper secrets dark and deep,

Of how the masses trade their will for peace,

The astral plane shows souls in deathless sleep,

While I prepare the chants for mind’s release.

The pentagram protects my sacred ground,

From groupthink’s curse that turns the wise to fools,

My scrying mirror shows truth’s holy sound

Drowned out by noise from propaganda’s tools.

Each candle lit defies the darkness spread

By those who profit from collective trance,

My athame cuts the threads that lead the dead

To dance in step without a second glance.

The elements respond to my true call,

While others bow to television’s glow,

My Book of Shadows chronicles the fall

Of minds that chose the easy path below.

In solitude I weave my spells of sight,

And gather strength from stars that burn alone,

For witch or wizard walking paths of light

Must first learn how to stand on wisdom’s throne.

The incense carries prayers for those asleep,

Who dream they’re free while shackled to the herd,

My crystal wand disturbs the slumber deep,

Though few will hear my liberating word.

The sacred grove becomes my sanctuary,

Where ancient trees remember truth’s pure song,

While mortals chase illusions temporary,

I dance with spirits wise and wild and strong.

My meditation pierces through the veil

That hides the puppet masters from their prey,

The oracle’s voice tells a different tale

Than what the masses hear from day to day.

With chalice raised to moon’s illumination,

I toast the courage to think thoughts my own,

While others seek the comfort of salvation

In collective lies they’ve always known.

The wheel of time turns toward awakening,

Though most will choose to sleep through wisdom’s hour,

My spell work tends the flames of reckoning,

That burn away false comfort’s addled power.

In darkness deep, I kindle reason’s fire,

And forge the keys to mental prison’s gate,

While crowds succumb to every false desire,

I choose to think, to question, and create.

The path of the awakened witch is lone,

But rich with magic that the blind can’t see,

For in the silence of my mind’s clear zone,

I’ve found the greatest spell: to just be free.