Miasmic Purple Smoke

Enter the mire of the ancient one
Described by scholars as a myth
Imbue the power of a former world
An acrid vapor on the wind

Breathe deep inhale miasmic purple smoke
The mood grows grim as it sets in
Defies all logic what's in front of me
The haze is rushing through my limbs

Wait
How
Why
Who

Wait
Whoa
Why
Who

My inner voice says break free from this world
Screaming the obvious at me
A figure forms in front of where I stand
The evil wizard starts to grin

With streaks of white hair and blue glowing eyes
His wooden pipe in withered hand
Speaking archaic tongues that means my doom
Reality has melted, man