The blue wizard

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In a castle shrouded by the whispering mist, Where the moonlight dances and the stars insist, Lives a wizard robed in midnight's deepest blue, Crafting spells where the night's old secrets brew.

His towers touch the indigo-veined sky, Among the clouds where only dreams may fly. The stones are etched with runes that softly glow, Telling tales that only the wind might know.

With a staff crowned by an azure gem, He conjures storms and calm at their stem. His words weave through the corridors cold, In ancient tongues of mysteries untold.

The library walls are lined with spectral books, That flutter their pages in shadowed nooks. He reads by the candle's wavering light, Learning from the stars, alive at night.

Each potion brewed with a cerulean flame, Each incantation bearing his unique name. With eyes like sapphires, bright and clear, He gazes into realms that others fear.

Outside, the world may churn and change its face, Yet inside stone walls, he finds his tranquil place. For in this castle, hidden from day's view, Magic lives, breathes, in the hue of deepest blue.