Chapter Twelve: To Spell the Incantation Wrong

I do believe in an everyday sort of magic

-- the inexplicable connectedness we

sometimes experience with places, people,

works of art, and the like; the errie

appropriateness of moments of synchronicity;

the whispered voice, the hidden presence,

when we think we're alone.

Charles de Lint

Children see magic because

they look for it.

Christopher Moore

-o0o-

It was a state of calmness

Breathing, but not quite

Alive but surely dead

Avada Kedavra

Was the last thing heard

No words followed after that

A painful sentence of death

The green light touched his soul

And in an instant, his soul goes

No other impetus required

Gone in an instant!

Involuntary, but ingeniously in effect

The incantation light swung, flew

Deep within himself

As the standard book of spells

Detest the unforgivable curse

It was efficacious, nonetheless

However, miracles arise

And by his Holy Body

The curse suddenly died

Not gone, but still there

Yet, he came to life

And the killing curse was no more

Not even a scar remains

He opened his eyes

Alive, full of life!

In truth and in fact

But where is the spell?

Has it gone into oblivion?

Existing? Hiding? Thriving?

Secretly embedded?

Within the soul 

Was it effective still?

Ready to be unleashed again

Deception it seems

But by characteristic

Magic is still here

But to deny the cosmos

And the force of non-voluntary

The willful effect deminishes

And no exception shall be made

Quickly, then nature decides

Magical incantations

Become the highest regard

And as the occult suddenly loses

The discipline of Wandlore

Has totally lost its greatness

By far, the spells have been tested

Its efficacy certified again

But Publishers have nothing else to say

If magic continue to stall

Satan will loudly growl

It was a prophetic necessity

That everyone must know!

To try and suppress Miracle Science

Will never outdo the song!

But by fatal mistake

The incantation's misspelled

The power of decibels was breached

Unfortunate enough to read

That by the altered literal spelling

The sound remained the same

So, the Wands have been tricked

To follow commands

Seemingly impossible, but here it was

And to forgo the memories of dreams

Where the storeroom was instilled

The scam suddenly vanishes

With no evidence to see

As this crucial information is blurred

The veil reinforces "the thing"

Secretly then, the sovereign flees!

And unless it was found

Unearthed from the Temple of love

The magic will be no more

Defeated, right to the very core!

And as the crucial Duality crumbles

So are the miracles that depend behold

The obliterated darkness again arose

For the darkness does not need to hold

Without light it can solely go!

But by miracles, the Word is restored

Yet for now, the magic is no more!

And as for the search for Endorian magic

It has all begun

Spells necessarily adored, miracles' resolve

By Seers, Aurors or Aurologist's recall

The light will greatly flicker

Until extinguished, it was no more

But to search the trace

Of this powerful witch

The Samuelian Strait begins

And the search will reveal

Within the tunnel way

There is no end to reach

But where is this enormous power?

Hiding, thriving again?

By magic, miracles, or sheer might

Manifested surely, but

Gone with the wind!

And as we think, there is

No country for old men

Not even close

Then the Holy War seemingly clear

That the advantage of Satan's cunning

Becomes absolutely revealed for real

The path to the sacred orders

Becomes tainted fully

Not by the occult, no, not at all

But by the vanishing philosophical clause!

x-------------x

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