In the darkest recess
Right in the very corner
Illuminated by sepia
Or is it fool's gold?
There is a book -
Just over there, look -
It's behind that dusty dream.
Under its magic spell
Upon a right-hand page
Opened up to catch the eye
Are scribed some mystic runes.

Think not they are the words
From some forgotten tongue,

Or substitute appellations

For more worthy would-be kings.
No they are secret trojans
Waiting to be read by
An unsuspecting eye.
Above them is sketched
Roughly as by a shaky hand
The image of the ne'er-be
Would-be King - rusty crown and all.

Please you should not try
Looking at him to identify!

Now seek to understand
The meaning here portrayed:
For this is a clever trap
Intended to easily capture
The unsuspecting soul.
Do remember, what is seen
Can never become unseen

Cannot be turned from front to back.
The runes are entangled hex.
The would-be king is evil -
Evil, Earth personified.
And his henchmen wait
With not a dot of apprehension
For the sounding of his name
Echoing in your mind.
'Agam-agam' will be heard
Magog Magog unrefined.
Avoid with absolute determination!

© Griffonner 2026