The Illusionist

The illusionist can make new worlds out of nothing,
Immerse you in a fairy tales of lies and pretend,
For when they twirl in a swirl of sound and light they disappear only to never have left,
Fabric forms itself into majestic birds of flight small and petite to daunting in size,
Light sheds darkness instead of its name onto surprised faces,
Cards arrange themselves into a book full of futures and fortunes,
Water appears and twists into shapes unimaginable, dragons and fairies, planets and stars only to fall to the floor with a splash,
Fire sprouts from their palm, hundreds of colours glow within the flame, creating new and old, or some simply unimaginable,
For the illusionist shows guests their greatest fears and desires without them even knowing,
For the illusionist shows the future past and what not has even been thought of,
For the illusionist shows the world that nothing can be made into something,
And something can be made into nothing,
For nothing cannot be made from nothing,
The illusionist takes a bow and disappears before delighted eyes,
Making some question watching if they were even there to begin with, the illusionist or even themselves,
For they saw what they wished, and saw something truly magnificent.