Who Stole my magical part?
Once i was a single piece of story,
And then was added up with a bit of Magic.
I roamed about on the grass and the slums
And on the glass of hope and in salty lake.
A bottle of tear was changed to pure wine
And the glasses of wine to strong Vodka.
The magic was so sleek and the core was hot
It burnt me like a cup of water in a pot
my hair got straightened, when the magic
Was by hearted by me and filled up my nerve.
It was born in me and grew with me and then,
I thought it would die with me and get buried.
Nothing happened, never did i die or the other,
Never did the magic die and moved selfless.
Never ambitious i was, but the magic was.
Not the magician i was of that magic, i thought
Just a dropp of the self, threw the magic from me?
Did my veins broke and was i soaked in blood?
It was all a magic of life who taught me to roam
And i knew, hidden was there someone to watch me,
Doing the magic, unskillfully, in dramatic pace.
All in grief I was, coz I forgot all that I knew,
Who is raiding my soul? I asked myself,
Neither I answered nor anyone else or the Magic either
And on the way I found the Magic playing against me.
Realized I, with extreme gentleness, my plight
The time was up and no more magician I was.
I saw it played by someone else whom I didn’t know,
And who stole my magical part for him,
Was that myself? Or was that a Magic.
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