Blind

The wise-one looks upon the young magician with pitty, trying to control demons and not even conquerring his own.
It doesn’t slip his mind that not so much time has past since, his hair was not as grey and his his practices not that bright.
Beliefs are of no importance, even when thou don’t believe or see, it’s existence is eminent.
When a young blind man bumps into reality, he understands he doesn’t see.
Today many are bruised but not any wiser, wishing and not practicing