[ WP ] A sleight-of-hand magician meets an actual spells-and-wands magician .

The Eye floated, obscured to sight, 
 
 Even if the night had n't lacked moonlight. 
 
 A mist was drifting around the eye, 
 
 Baptizing in cold the man of the lie. 
 
 
 The man was in a bitter pain, 
 
 The end result of a vulgar claim, 
 
 To be a magician and not just in name. 
 
 Then used this claim, 
 
 harvesting others pain, 
 
 For a bloated life of vice and fame. 
 
 
 The man claimed to save those that'd otherwise die. 
 
 Listening to their cries, piling gold to the skies. 
 
 But this charlatan was a fraud and coward. 
 
 Transported to a forest to test his powers. 
 
 Wandering, oblivious to the eye, 
 
 Cold and blind under moonless sky. 
 
 
 The man's hands fumbled thru wet tree leaves. 
 
 Searching with brittle hands, in woodland debris, 
 
 Something to ignite against the cold winter breeze. 
 
 Something to fight, 
 
 The icy blackness of the night. 
 
 
 Hypothermia would soon set in, 
 
 And a corpse would be where a man had been. 
 
 He claimed things fantastic, but was a fake, 
 
 And thus the eye sealed his final fate.
