the wand

It's glowing, glowing

Bright and bold

Shiny

Shiny as steel,

Shiny as fresh blood spilled.

It's sharp, but smooth

Sharp

Sharp as a knife

Smooth

Smooth as the preceding words

Precedent to the lethal blow.

I pick it up.

It's beautiful, covered in gold

Old as legends told

Beauty, the downfall

Of the best, and

Of the victims.

I wave it around.

It's natural, but strange

As if it shouldn't

Be there, but now that

It was in my hand, we had

Merged into one.

It's scary, but quiet

Shadows, a cacophony

Ringing in my head,

Mixed with the

Echoes of a lost harmony.

I drop it.

It's vanishing, dissipating

Electrons simmer

It's not there, anymore, but

I can still feel the tingle in my hand

and

I walk away.