Morning Magic

​

 

Grimoires, secret and full of splendor,

old and dusty tomes forbidding.

Raised my wand above their pages,

chanted there a moment. Waited.

Watching, saw a gruesome figure

stumble ‘round until it spied me.

 

Red eyes dark and mesmerizing

struck my heart with fearsome

pounding, pounding battering ram.

“Let me enter, mortal man

let me devour soul and skin

taste the sweet and sav’ry flesh”

said it to me that winter morn.

 

Strong, I tore my eyes from it’s gaze and

let the wounds upon my soul fade away.

Light, cerulean clean cleaved the figure

Then, I knew my soul was rent. The

worst of me gone forever there, that cold

December.

 

Thus, was rid of part of me

Shut the tome, the grimoire dark and still,

shuffled off to join the day, now free of

Shadow, free of Night and free of life.