Did no one tell you that true Magic exists?

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Did no one tell you that true Magic exists? 

Just hidden somewhere deep 

In most societies

Sought after by convicts of the mundane

Profane addicts, who cry out in the mists

Whenever they're asleep 

In pain

Some crying out for redemption or anything linked to temptation 

But still, it subsists 

In so many obscure places

And upon so many new or old altars, does it reside

For when it comes out to tempt the eyes of the juggernaut 

Known as The Great Metatron 

To look

One of the most powerful archangels and interdimensional scribes

To the Book of Life

It causes so many other emotions, to like atoms collide

In the deep minds behind inquisitive eyes and faces

From all genders and races

As imagery

Emotions and engagement run wide

For the Philosopher's Stone

The Great Secret

Is simply this

There's an old piece of magic in us 

All 

But sometimes, it only chooses to come out in those it made to speak

After a mighty fall

Maybe like you

Too

A new follower who once heard the nightly call

And now speaks a sacred hidden language that summons the craft of 

Reconceptualising the enchantment of the human experience

Through an incredible naming magical act

Breathing 

Moulding and weaving 

Words into life

Like a pagan mage giving shape to energy 

A molten flux to entertain the curious ones 

Of any age

That needs something magical written in verse

As they turn one of your spiritual pages

To help save them from their own form of self-destruction 

And maybe anything that still hurts

Before their last ride home

In Old Nick's black hearse

As you serve your new masters and mistresses 

Of the magical vibrations known as Poetry

By sharing your magic as it pleads to be dispersed

(C) Copyright John Duffy