Modern Wizardry

Upon birth we are empty.
As we grow older the miracle of the mind unfolds.
To everything we see we give names.
Such was the nature of the magic given to mankind.
Some learned to channel their emotions into the written word,
Creating poetry, songs, stories or cadences of war.
Such was the nature of high magic,
Both radiant and elegant for the creation of the pinnacles of our culture,
But also dark and tainted because of the poison words could form when used by a blighted soul.
Those who possess the higher magic of mankind struggle with the shadowy side of words,
Falling victim to the hidden might of whispering letters on a piece of parchment,
Unable to grasp the concept that with great power comes great responsibility.
Every day I struggle with the responsibility laid on my shoulders on the day I wrote my first lithany,
But I can promise this:
My magic will serve that what's best in me, not that what's most tainted.
Therefor let my gargantuan hunger be stilled,
My infuriating rage smothered,
Lingering pride crushed,
Desecrating desire dampened,
In the name of the modern mage, so shall it be.