The Magic
The magic had failed just then,
Training a hand to a weapon;
The cocked weapon was itself,
The magical weapon was itself.
He needed to obey the weapon,
You dress and bind your wrists,
But the sword snaps in them,
Falling apart and then the magic enters!
A place for your hands has no choice,
What are you now that magic appeared?
There is no escape, no where to provide
And foresee to exact the retribution.
The person also ordered his chest
To expand and release the lungs,
For his magical tricks could foresee
Why he was a magician.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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