The Price of Magic

 

You message me,

requesting my presence.

You must be

cold and alone

again.

 

The moon is full

and Mercury in retrograde.

Why else would you

call me this late?

You must be ready

to try again.

 

It’s always the same with you;

complicated ad infinitum.

All your little tricks,

really nothing more

than primitive superstitions.

 

I arrive late

and I’m not sure

if I

should be here at all,

to watch you cut yourself,

an offering

for your little

blood ritual.

 

I don’t think you know

what you’re asking for.

You like to play with power,

but you’ll open a door

to things you can’t control.

 

I know you don’t believe,

but you see,

I’m already here.

You go through the motions,

say your magic words,

as I conduct my ministrations,

take you to another world,

but leave you with your soul.

 

Tomorrow,

you’ll be disappointed,

but I’m afraid you don’t know

the price of what you’re asking for.

It’s more

than you’re

willing to give.

Trust me on this.

 

 

HG – 2021

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