Chapter Forty Two: A Dagger

"Can a magician kill a man by magic?"

Lord Wellington asked Strange.

Strange frowned. He seemed to 

dislike the question.

"I suppose a magician might,"

he admitted, "but a gentleman

never could."

Susanna Clark, Jonathan Strange

& Mr. Norrell

Believe me, it would be better if

we didn't meet again. Go back to school.

Go back to your life. And next time

they ask you, say no. Killing is for the

grown-ups and you're still a child.

Anthony Horowitz, Stormbreaker

-o0o-

There was a myth I know

A legend, and its many lies

It involves unicorns, and some Elves

And the color green

As well as several gold deposits

That traces back from the many weapons

There are arrows, too; and swords

But the most fatal was a Dagger in form

It is very sharp, truly golden

A caricature of certain dreams 

Invoking the many sufferings

Yet, the myths continue to deceive

It then evokes emotion, fear

And anger, fury of madness

It was the cause of rage

It soon divided the Elves

It separated the sun from the snow

As everything eventually falls

Like the autumn of seriousness

In all its craziness

Memorials and the feasts of knights

Soldiers and cyborgs alike

There is a trap door, a portal

That only death can fully provide

However, the children suffers

The grown-ups are dishonest

Nothing else really matters

A sovereign that is truly clever

Hope is sometimes peddled

And compounded in many ways

Of the breach of peace

The frailty of the police

A downfall planned

An important dimensional need

To open the said portal

Through the infarction of dreams

To pierce the veil of time

The imploding space provides

It follows closely, devoutly

And into the many seams

Poets had nothing to do

This treachery that has no clue

They must seek the truth

But falsehood reigns

Again, a strong blanket

Of creatures and the solid killings

The magic shall never fail

Christmas will ultimately tell

The love that creates the well

A glorious impetus

They must recently believe 

In what cannot be seen

Invisibility, by the agent's ring

The inalienable powers

Again, never to rise

Non-transferable, illicit

The mention of a cruel dime

A crazy disposition

And the appeal to ignorance

Familiarity and common sense

And the dysfunction of existence

O, what a capitalist's sorrows!

The labor of unassuming love

But to whom shall we spend?

The illustrious kind of love?

Will there be certainty?

Affection?

To the definite kind of remorse?

A legal contention, incarceration

And the jail of discomfort

To be curtailed of all freedoms!

In the minds of all cruelty

Only a murderer can open

The distinctive gap of love

In the interest of justice

One must skillfully sail above

and in the finest depths below!

From the Epic, "Daggers of the Many Tranquility"

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