Masks by Shel Silverstein
What if magic isn’t something you choose, what if it chooses you?
And time is taking its sweet time erasing you
And you’ve got your demons, and, darling, they all look like me
you and I go hard at each other
like we’re going to war,
you and I go rough,
we keep throwing things and slamming the door,
you and I get so damn dysfunctional
we stopped keeping score,
you and I get sick, yeah
I know that we can’t do this no more.
But now you never show that to me, do you?
Merlin stood frozen with horror. Was this his destiny? To kill a woman he thought of as a friend? Could he pay that price to save Camelot?