Alone;
Swimming in the darkness of my room, alone.
It engulfs me as I fight back loneliness.
To be alive in this sorrow that afloat my soul in waves.
To spell,
I stand alone.
With nothing but memories of spells,
Chumming, humming to my cheekbone,
Without a beautiful story to tell.
To spell,
I stand alone, awake at night.
Without a glitch of foretell,
Trying to calm the silent fight.
Growing in my heart, this evil swell.
Listening to the whispers of moonlight.
Calling on me, for something bright to see.
To spell,
I let my eyes do the talking,
As I have lost my tongue and voice.
I let my mind do the walking,
Despite this noise.
And then I ask, with an emotional voice.
Dear Moon, how do you cope?
Being alone, what's your hope?
To spell,
Dragging my soul to ashes
Of what I used to be, I'm lost in existence.
Healing cast spells,
Deep down my heart was like wishing wells.
Clueless of what arrow,
Would spin me a colorful tomorrow.
To spell,
With words tied to time.
My truths are buried in Gale.
My voice was lost in thyme.
All I hear is nature's breezy wail.
Alone,
Standing out here.
Painting my nights in dreamy thoughts.
My mind flips through the bloody battles I fought.
Horrific moments, I wept without words.
In spell,
The moon is held now.
And so, she is dying.
Forming into a crescent brow.
My lips, quivering to her descent melted.
To spell,
Trying to reach out to her.
Fairy tales make me wish.
I have a power similar to a witch's.
As I watch her dying smile.
Of this journey between a thousand miles.
To spell;
Like the light in me,
You awaken every dragon.
Burning fuels,
Every sleepy ocean, that dwells.
Inside of me, you remind me.
Despite the darkness.
There's still light at the edge of this tunnel.
Despite this loneliness,
I still have in me, this magical spell.
To spell,
Words are enchanting,
Incantation to my ears.
Controlling my mind.
Painting an image with nothing but spell lines.
Though, I don't know.
How much magic, the spell holds within.
But with the right words shown.
Brings out the right feeling.
© Madinah_Writes
YOU ARE READING
SPELL
PoetryPoetry is magic. And poems are spells. The spirituality of poetry is clear - but it's not always obvious; like many paths and practices (especially witchcraft, folk magic, or other spiritual paths), poetry is a way toward self-reclamation, finding a...
