The Magician’s Demise

The magician casted a spell on the
Beautiful Moon at the darkest hour
Of the longest night of this old year,
With his tall top hat and a ravenous
Empty smile he backed away casing
His crooked back by a violet cape,
As he jumped into the shadows of
Dodgy side alleys with his lengthy
Golden staff the Moon resisted,
Afraid that his identity might be
Revealed the magician tried to live
Under the shields of Earth’s crust,
But the buckets of love reversed
The spell by the Earth and poured
Hours of agony onto the magician,
Ever since that moment at the
Darkest hour of the longest night
Of this old year the Moon sang:
Je t’aime de tout mon coeur.

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