In the shadows where whispers weave,
Magic Atticus begins to breathe,
A tale of wonder, unseen by day,
Where dreams and reality sway.

Beneath the moon’s soft, silver light,
Atticus casts spells in the night,
His secrets hidden, ancient and deep,
In the heart of forests, where spirits sleep.

With every incantation spoken,
The veil of reality is broken,
Mysteries unfold, and time stands still,
As the magic bends to Atticus’ will.

Yet in the silence of the dawn,
The truth of magic is reborn,
For Atticus knows, as shadows fade,
That true magic is in the bonds we’ve made.