In his secluded tower, shrouded in twilight, A wizard toils, bathed in potion’s dim light. Beneath aged rafters and cobwebs' weave, He stirs a brew, as the night takes its leave. Ingredients rare, with a flick of his wrist, He blends them with care, in a bubbling twist. Moonflower petals and dragon’s breath, Essence of nightshade and tears of death. The cauldron bubbles, a mystical brew, Its colors shifting, from azure to blue. The wizard chants softly, with ancient command, As magic and alchemy fuse by his hand. In the midst of his work, a vision appears, Of a time long past, filled with joy and tears. He sees a young boy, eyes wide with dreams, Exploring the world, with sunlight’s beams. Once, he was that boy, untainted by strife, Full of wonder and love, and the zest for life. But as years went by, and magic took hold, His heart grew weary, his spirit turned cold. The potion he brews, meant to grant power, Now feels like a chain, in this late hour. For in the depth of the cauldron’s glare, He glimpses a truth, heavy and rare. Magic is vast, a world of its own, Yet it’s solitude’s friend, as he’s always known. Power it grants, but at what cost? For the life of a wizard, is one often lost. He recalls the laughter, the warmth of friends, The simple joys, where the heart never bends. But in his pursuit of arcane and might, He traded those days for endless night. The potion now shimmers, ready and bright, But the wizard, reflective, pauses in spite. Is power worth more than a heart that feels? Can magic mend what time reveals? With a heavy heart, he lifts the flask, But now, it’s more than a simple task. For in the potion’s glimmer, he sees the past, And questions the choices that brought him fast. To a life of shadows, spells, and lore, Yet devoid of the love he once swore. The wizard sighs, eyes glistening with tears, As he ponders his journey through the years. He sets down the potion, its power untapped, And with a sorrowful smile, he’s finally unwrapped. The truth that power, though dazzling and grand, Is empty without a heart to withstand. He steps from the tower, under moon’s gentle light, Leaving behind the solitary night. For the deepest magic, he’s come to see, Is the love and the life that sets one free.
