The tales and whispers of magic ,

Quite the road we travelled ,

Quite somethings here and there tragic ,

Rather in the world had we lost an instrument

The one which tuned the mirkle notes of panic

One which was holy,

One the kind smuogic ,

Maybe we were on a trail to something ,

Leaving behind the stars and simplicity of the habit,

Dear me , dear you

Where be our Genie ,

The one who ticked the arctic ?

For the moments we ministrelled

Together in the room locked with pixy dust and a magical carpet,

The layed underground stars

Tore the ground apart

And made the sceno sparsic

For then it was his shake of the jar

He encrusted his heart in larkings ,

He was the mist , he was the shadow

Of our ‘bundant love to magic .

For all has travelled a time

We walked swift and loss the timeless happiness argent

We doom now the facade

Of all the beautiful things we vanded

For now it seems the land afar is far more crowded

The shadows of love ,

The wings our hearts do seem so more afar grounded ,

For, if , we had believed the reckless bond of the rings of supernatural band – aids ,

It was our cure , it was so adorned , so happy the sparkles of ours were ,

Where be our Genie ?

where be our moments of heartness ?

Or maybe was our Genie

Our souls that were down in our mindset

Something is perhaps lost , dear my , for maybe the genie can’t make our hearts

Go strokeless .

– Aryan Jain
Daily prompt word -Genie


2 thoughts on “Genie

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