A deafening bang. A blinding flash.
A tortured scream, then malicious laugh.

We are magic.
Are we are monsters?

Come here; compassion barely holds.
And without passion care is cold.
All love leads to sacrifice.
We have the virtue to chose our vice.

Are we magic?
Are we monsters?

There is conviction in the heart of man.
There is beauty in his eye.
But the sums of soft concerns sound loudly
To drown out harder crimes.

We are magic; we are monsters.

We tell our “truths”.
They paint our world.
We’re practiced.
We’re patient.
We’re porous.

We are magic. We are monsters.