In the midst of the writhing fog
Is a cave, all damp and dire
In the cave there lives a vicious warlock
And the fury in his eyes is set on fire

Steam comes from his gruesome claws
As he stirs his bubbling brew
The creatures in the pot scream in agony
For they are the warlock’s next bowl of stew

The warlock licks his lips in a cruel, rotten grin
And his drool turns to poison as it drizzles down his chin
The entire cave trembles; the meal will begin
So beware of the warlock of Casar, my friend

Never let him come near you
Nor catch his deadly gaze
Lest he reach out his claw and touch your shoulder…
Beware!