The (Drac)ul Sorcerer (III)

[The Draç]

Reasoning, seasoning, one to lean into it.

Lies, disguise, the nuclear bomb sky high.

Rise to the top, the cream of the crop.

Wanting to pop, and lock, then drop.

Fell from the top, wishes that hurt.

A Warlock who relies, who then goes berserk.

A bird that chirps, a bear that roars.

Souls we abduct, they eventually are sore.

Pray to our core, the 4 Royal Stars, the lore.

We always want more, to babysit, the chore.

Incarnate all together, the abomination, the boar.

The Bottomless Pit, we then hit the floor.