Magic

Magic- so profound and complex it is refuted by those too afraid to claim their inferiority to it- its magnificence so surreal it is the last to ever steal anyone’s breath away, never to return it. All the weak fight for explanations denying the magic ownership to their, one-day, stark vessels. Denial is a force so powerful it rules all the realms of the mind, but the enchanted world twists and turns leaving it forever in oblivion, seeking the comforts its power once had.
Those whose minds survived the enslavement of fear have souls that dance across acres, the magic in hand, turning, loving- accepting. Their eyes have cleared the fog off their mirrors- they see the magnificence of it seeping out of every crevice in the ground, out of every smile, out of every pupil. They see it in the fourth dimension, enjoying the beauty of static being, waiting as its family grows.
These people don’t see the horror stories paired with its obscurity, the monsters and punishment hidden in its darkness. They see peace.
The mind may not enjoy the privilege of continuity, but that’s what the magic is for. Forever going, never stopped.