Transforming silver into gold with the slightest of hand
I can change you, if you look past these distortions, into something of worth.
But first, dismiss your soul and let me mold it; revolutionize it, to my approval.
I might spare you just a taste of immorality, the elixir of life.
The poison spirals down your throat and scars begin to fade from your skin.
Leaving the finest, frictionless skin.
The transformation into something radiant had begun, a job well done.
What will happen when the ones that enchant you no longer carry magic
Their thoughts imprisoned by disease.
What will happen when they begin to shrink under the weight of their wisdom?
And are only able to cultivate gray strands and hobble on weak bones?
Will you regret that innocent drop that tasted so sweet?