Magic Of Mystery Poem by Val Brooklyn Rogers

Not a peasant nor a homeless pauper.
Truly a king in DISGUISE.
The Majesty of a life.
The magic of mystery

Top of a special sky
The edge, you have fully acknowledged
And began to understand the magic of
Mastery is present, in command.


A missing key has been found
The tide rolls in audible sound.
Do you hear your keenest thought?

Wind in the proudest DIN?
TRY the REBELLIOUS piano again.
A DEATH SENTENCE goes silent on a
Mournful thought.
Do you think of me as a lowly heap?
Do not speak of me.


Your notions are shallow!
Do not look me in the eye
Only to glance away.

Who is that you pretend to be
On the surface of your character?


Let me count the threads of your
Moral heart.
Then you may walk your way with
The proudest gait.