So many scholars held at hand,

That many parents met dispair:

"You want to see them? Well, you can't!

The wise won't breathe your common air!"

The Raven knew how many acts possessed his play.

And so, the first was pushing them away.

Carrying out the second part,

The students gathered what he asked;

Brewing, although labeled as an ancient art,

Within itself great secrets masked.

The next hoovestep for his goal:

To control a newborn foal.

How?

Is this single stallion heartless?

You should never ask yourself.

For him, love's a game, no less!

Another clumsy book in shelf!

A stone-cold heart cannot be taken.

From it no love will reawaken.

By any method or another,

He raised quite lovingly his colt.

Though records question him: why bother?

Why bring the play to such a halt?

What he did ought not be told,

Yet the play so did unfold.

The warlock's scheme did not end here,

Although of age he was afraid:

The time of death was drawing near.

Ha dared not lose what he had made!

As common stallion, mortal mare,

Of petty life they always care.

"The Alicorns! They are eternal,

But they're devious and infernal!

To drain us of our youth

And fill their own... It's so uncouth!

But today we'll mock them back.

We have one thing that they lack:

Out might of will and brave resolve!

The fear of death we will dissolve,

And everypony shall evolve!

Only you, my dears, receive...

This brew!

Once godlike power I achieve,

There will be nothing I can't do!

As for you, good son:

Go spread the word. Begone.

I shall make kings dance. Dance faster!

Bow to me: your only Master!"

(Not to worry. Records claim Riiven perished after the brew touched his core.)