“People
disappear
all the
time
Come
and go
all the
time
It is
part
of the
mortal
rhyme”
The magician
shouted
fearful
of the
angry
crowd
gathered
in search
of newly
lost
ones
“How
was I
to know
It was just
a trick
A slide
of
hand
Nothing
more
Nothing
grand”
Still
the crowd
pressed
forward
to blame
the
eternal
flame
“I can’t
bring
them
back
I can’t
I have
no
magic
other
then
the rope
of hope”
Those
were
the last
words
the magician
spoke
Before
he was
banished
by the
hands of
vanish
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