Combat Magician

A cycle of poems «Anamnesis morbi»

In realms of smoke and ancient spell,
Stands a warrior, unmatched and bold.
With incantations whispered low,
A combat magician, wielding magic's fold.

Oh, combat magician, with power so grand,
Unleashing spells upon the battle's strand.
Fireballs dance and lightning strikes,
As enemies tremble at his sacred rites.

Words of power, his greatest shield,
Protecting comrades, keeping the field.
He summons creatures from the ethereal plane,
To aid his cause, to vanquish the profane.

Oh, combat magician, with power so grand,
Unleashing spells upon the battle's strand.
Fireballs dance and lightning strikes,
As enemies tremble at his sacred rites.

Through chaos and despair, he fights the fray,
His magic guiding him through darkest days.
With every incantation, he inspires hope,
For those who stand beside him in the scope.

His robes adorned with ancient runes,
Channeling cosmic forces, defying all tunes.
He weaves his spells with precision and grace,
A master of the arcane's ethereal space.

Oh, combat magician, with power so grand,
Unleashing spells upon the battle's strand.
Fireballs dance and lightning strikes,
As enemies tremble at his sacred rites.

In the annals of legend, his name shall shine,
The combat magician, fearless and divine.
With magic as his weapon, he fought the good fight,
A protector of the realm, a beacon of light.