“Sometimes We Forget How Powerful We Are” | Prompt #2

“Do you believe in magic?”

“Umm.. Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“I seek magic in your eyes, the spark that tells me there’s a lot to be discovered.” Stated my own self while looking into the mirror.

“I seek for it in the outer world, and in many places but all I find is nothing. I get tired and then I find the evidence of it in my own self. As always”

Magic. How a little word is full of surprises, excitement, joyous in its own.

It’s a pseudoscience. Transformational. Magic in its own is creating art and then it again turns magic.

In today’s prompt of, Sometimes we forget how powerful we are, I have written a piece of poem that makes me remember a lot of incidences in my life. Where I’ve been broken from within, my soul used to sob, and scream until it reaches the universe and come back.

I’ve this habit of not speaking much about myself. I’ve always been like that. Maybe my mum has given me this habit of keeping the saddest things to my own. She used to be really good it.

Many of the times I’ve found myself cheated not with money, but with hearts. Not everyone’s heart is as pure as your yours. I’ve realised this really later in life. And as they say, you’ve got to face a lot of bad things before you welcome a good one in your life. I’ve seen a lot of darkness before the beam of light could get into my soul to brighten up my entire world. It worked as if it’s nothing but magic.

You feel your prayers are not being answered but at that time you’re only being tested for your patience. Unaware of the facts, I always seek for the help from those who’s never understood the problem themselves. The answers were always within. Inside my heart.

At last, I’ve kept myself mute enough to listen to what my heart speaks about, my intuitions hint me about, and for everything that made me believe that yes, it does happen. Magic…

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I used to look for the answers
Talking with the dead,
Questioning my own self,
Thoughts which were always unsaid
To the perpetual pondering
Of the world in which we live in.
Mass full of people, but dead at heart.

I started listening to my inner voice,
To fill what was emptied since forever
Never stopping,
Not being a hesitant
For my greatest fear was not to what people would think, but what if I don’t act now
It was the silence of my own
That would kill me.

The illusion was revealed
And at once
I understood
Why the questions were unanswered,
The prayers roamed around the universe
And came back to me.

And now I find myself in the solitude of life
Basking myself in the muteness,
Breathing deep within
Drafting the world just inside my heart,
Trapping what’s not of my use,
Baiting to kill my inner demons
Leaving all of them to roam anywhere
But not within my peripheral.
As if I know my intricate road map.
Satisfyingly I own it.

The suppression assured me
To keep myself away underneath
The tangle of complications,
And realise the potential I carry,
In the man-made world,
A soul accomplished its own magic.

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