Skip to content

Magic of Spirits

It has some kind of magic or science to be precise. Unholy, immoral and wicked they say; but holy, moral and virtuous I cry.

Aware of each and every muscle, nerve and flowing cell. Closed my eyes, stared at the skies and left my body somewhere.

I saw stars and nebulae and worlds full of life. “Oh ! my brothers, you miss so much; It is the most magical sight.”

And suddenly before me a ball of fire, a shinning star, I seen before. “Is this what I think it is ?” aghast, alarmed and awestruck; nothing but a speck of dust.

My brothers and sisters from worlds unknown pleaded me to stay, “Play some more.”

“Avast ! my mother awaits” I said “must return, no time to spare” and so my weary soul slid through a hole. Closing my eyes again saw a similar sight.

And as the sun rose, struggling through the clouds, I saw my spirit lifted giving a reason to fight.

This is the magic of spirits, this you cannot deny. On many lonely nights, embracing the spirits, I let myself fly.

Shadow

Once the Immortals judged the ways of a thousand mortals, a thousand mortals who did the same. Upon that very moment a shadow cast itself, a shadow with no name. It pierced the heart of two, one touched the sky, the other its twin. Floating across the crescent moon, fed upon the mortal’s sin.

It swiftly cast itself upon the primeval being marking the dreaded, unholy beginning. The primeval being, being the ultimate reality tried to reason, reason in futility.

All the Immortals and rulers of worlds, those primordial gods all trembled in fear. As the truth sank in golden eggs they realised the end was near.

Infesting petty minds it slithered its way to the core, the core of a weak and conflicted soul. Feeling a promise in great despair where no one did before. He embraced the shadow, the shadow forever, forever more.