valentine

i pay homage to the magic that once was ours

we had it

held it

harvested it 

treated it as if we were the progenitors of such

but we were not worthy

used and abused its power for our own

withdrawals from such we may never recover 

we thought we spoke for the magic, 

but the magic was its own

the true creator of our Chaos Magic—

itself—

watched us misuse its strength

its wonder

its fantasy

and took it away from us

rightfully

justifiably

arguably too late

for it was too late

when we remembered 

what we were like before the magic

and held on too tight 

instead of letting the magic come and go

letting itself and us

stay free

chaos magic is not dead

only silent;

it has not betrayed us—

rather, we it;

maybe one day,

we will be worthy enough to hold it again