Despite being I shall never be perceived
for it is life where everything must remain unknown.
Hard infused in every ounce of my personality
it shall reflect and yet shall never be shown.
O’dear o’dear my tragedy shall be magical
and shall resound to the distant stars.
While I will disintegrate follicle by follicle,
my time will know no end of hours.
If you could muster enough courage
and dare to see what I witness,
you shall feel the resonance I share with age
and crumble just like I do as you call me a mess.
I am a tragedy but I am magnificent and magical,
may all those who wish to be known for themselves get to
whilst knowing that being true shall be empirical.
Ask that mirror, is that really you?
2 thoughts on “Magical Tragedy”
Ah missed reading your poems. ❤️
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Hope you enjoyed this one then! 🙂