I have a beautiful wand which dazzles the crowd,
Instigating harm on the human heart in hate.
This dazzling continues until latest uprisings,
Floating is the business of the cities of a deed.
This is dazzling to the eyes, beauty awakens,
And eyes beget a boy for the crowd at night,
Opening the doors to cherished beliefs and actions.
A boy gets up, soil is buried with him, and he uncurls
To save himself from being buried alive,
He needs resurrection, and the priest can provide.
Monday, October 16, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: magic