The Magician’s Show

You reach for the rabbit in the tattered black hat

Without the fever you once possessed.

You bow to the crowd and accept the applause

Before hurrying off the stage without zest.

The dove shuffles, stuck in the cage-

The butterflies died in the cloudy night.

Silk kerchiefs have stayed stiff with tears;

A smoke black smudge where once was white.

You smiled as I took my seat,

Bowed to the crowd, then locked eyes on me

And as you swung that heavy chain

I felt as if I just learned to breathe. . .

Your arm falls short as you swing the cape,

The cards shuffle slowly and almost slip

You’ve lost the magic you once possessed,

The hand that gestures is quick.

Disappearing wasn’t merely your act,

Time was not something you could truly slow.

When the curtain fell and the lights when out,

It was your double who drove me home.

I climbed atop of your altar,

As you showed the blade to the crowd.

You hacked me in half then left to me bleed

And just left after your final bow.

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