YOUR MAGIC

If your magic can't make you operate a plane
Or make you build a crane

If it can't add any gain
Like the white brain
Who had decanted the strain
In his people's membrane
Or can't make you attain
Beyond that in reign

If your magic can't drain
The insanity on every lane

Then it mustn't cause more pain
To the decaying vein
More rain
And wash away the nutrient on the plain
More stain
To drive us beyond sane

Rather let it maintain
Sustain
And retain the lane
Since it can't add any gain