There is indeed magic in this world,
Not of mana and incantations,
But the realm of nature,
Not of glyphs and sorcery,
But of our verdant mother,
The spells she wields,
Those helixes of code,
They are in perpetual flux,
Building blocks on an atomic scale,
Altered slightly in every iteration,
The marvels she summons are indeed magical,
Species and races and every tint of the rainbow,
Our mutations are the gifts she enchants us with,
Our differences are the witchcraft in our human coven,
In the magic of our DNA.
