In the heart of night, beneath the moon’s soft gleam,
Atticus whispers truths, like an ancient dream.
His words, like magic, weave through the air,
Revealing secrets, both dark and fair.

With eyes that see beyond the veil,
He speaks of love that will prevail.
A sorcerer of words, crafting tales so deep,
Unveiling mysteries that make the soul weep.

Through storms of doubt and seas of fear,
His voice remains a beacon clear.
Guiding hearts to places unknown,
Where magic and truth are overthrown.

In the silence of dawn, his tales remain,
Echoes of magic, like an endless refrain.
Atticus, the keeper of truths untold,
In his words, we find solace and gold.