No Such Magic

My tendency to slip into the dark- a matter you have now begun to press. In realms of time and pain, I ache no less; you undervalue still, its lasting mark. So see me stand before you, bare and stark; I pray you’re not dismayed when I confess the ticking clock alone cannot repress- this sorrow hovers on a timeless arc. I do not wish to burden or deceive; if I could craft a spell, I’d cast it quick. I’d wield a wand if it might do the trick, but endless is this ache, I do believe. To waste a wish on turning time is tragic, for I have yet to come across this magic.