Illusions and visions
in between lines,
I waltz through a candlelit ballroom
with a man unfamiliar to time.
A city that I have never touched,
calls as if-
I could call it mine,
or perhaps my soul
has forever belonged there?
Fate must have woven
into the lace of my stoytelling.
For I ache to be there.
It hums-
unseen presence beside me.
Darker, deeper-
They were tortured and burned,
Guess who?
They called them 'Witches'.
When they didn't understand the divine.
And still-
My soul lingers,
to the unknown where no one visits,
Gatekeeper of places you fear.
-
Author:
Cynthia Seven (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 18th, 2026 18:32
- Comment from author about the poem: A feeling that I could not explain more than writing a poem.
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 14
Offline)
Comments3
Here are dark shadows of a black history and it seems almost a dream. It's feeling is somewhat sad and accusatory. Well written
Thank you so much for appreciating, it motivates me to write more. It really means a lot.
You are most welcome
Loved it
Thank you sir.
Your poem moves like a memory the soul remembers even when the mind does not. The way you blend longing, past‑life echoes, and that haunting sense of belonging to a place you’ve never touched feels beautifully otherworldly. The imagery of witches, fire, and unseen presences gives the piece a depth that lingers—like a doorway cracked open to something ancient. This is the kind of writing that doesn’t just describe a feeling; it summons it. Truly captivating.
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