Death of a Spell
"They say walls have ears, but I've heard them talk too.
They ask me about you, sometimes, when I am not thinking about you.
They tell me that you're not coming back. Then they ask me why I did it.
Last night was a surprise, the first time I saw you in twenty years.
I heard you died, that they didn't find anything except your bleeding head.
And today the walls asked me what I thought of you, what I felt about your corpse.
I tried to answer but you didn't let me. Your hand covered my face and I want to know why.
Because the walls laughed at my madness, said I was seeing things.
But then they all do. Yesterday I saw someone who looked like you.
She said she was you, still alive
That my insanity was for nothing.
That I was losing my mind over black magic and spells that went horribly wrong
When in fact the only thing I killed was my mind.
And other times I wonder why I did go through with it, even though I know.
I was looking for darkness so strong that it would neutralize the strength of the magic in you.
But there was none, for if there was, your head wouldn't have survived.
And I realized that there will never again be anything as powerful as you, and that I had to kill you to figure that out.
And here I sit, begging you to take your blood off my hands, because no matter what the dark magic has to offer, I know now that the only magic I've ever needed was you." - JC