Magic

Letter Reply

It's been a year since then.

This world is a cruel thing, a thing of darkness. It makes one want to end it, to see the peace on the other side. 

I don't speak to you often, friend. I don't speak to anyone much anymore.

There's conflict. Much conflict between me and the creator, but it's a dead end. Thinking of life, thinking of death, thinking of those who are lost forever. Those whose lives are too unbearable for me to ever know. Those who were born to the disadvantage of life, and will never see hope. Those who have evil hearts, seeking to destroy, those who take their defense in the words of our Majesty the King. His scribe, Paul, has written a few words in Timothy and the Corinthians which the evil one's use against our Majesty's creation. The women of this world, the ones who are worth less than dirt, have paid for the way it was interpreted. It saddens my heart to see the world so devoid of truth, my own heart devoid as well. 'We must seek the truth', I tell the world at every chance I get, but do I go fourth with my own advice? I ought really to listen to my words a little better. This world tugs at the heart and toils our minds. We suffer a much different but just as lethal condition; one that turns the heart to stone. Our people from different part of this world suffer physical wounds, fatal and harsh. We suffer an even greater one; numbness, ignorance. Our hearts have lost the magic of creation, our minds are slowly ebbing away into dark pleasure. Those on the other side of the earth still have a heart; yet it's beat is slowing from physical damage. Our cease to beat with life at all. We must do something, my friend. My mind is conflicted, yes, but I've no doubt in our creator that he is the All Powerful king. I may not like what I read in his Book of Life, but surely it's the truth; why else that we should breath the air around us? How else should this society think at all? Tis his world in the end. 

This is a sickened world, my friend, and we must not let it tint us more than it already has. I ask you, as well as myself, to search for your spirit, keep him alive, struggle against all odds to keep it alive. Perhaps the world can't see demons anymore, can't see spirits of good, but they are there. There's more to this world , there's a story told in ever part of it. We're slowly becoming the ignorant characters, slowly drifting away from knowing that we were once close to the author himself. We're fading into the pages of a book, one where no one is aware of the story line, no one knows they're even in a book at all. We're clueless, my friend, but don't let t that stop us from realization. This is a world of wonder, after all

I think I shall take it upon myself to give up on the pleasures of this world, the ones of social media; I haven't written in the pages of a tangible book in too long, and the light of day is but a distant memory. When I step outside the brightness blinds me, but I feel the wonder of the universe in my heart when I see it. When I see the sunset of a long day, the birds of paradise doing their rounds. They sing the most beautiful notes, flash every color of the rainbow. In this world, even the clouds can paint in hues of every shade, magnificent reds and oranges, pinks and purples. Isn't is wonderful? They do not believe in magic, but they see it every day. What makes the flowers bloom? What helps them face the sun, who tells them it's night and day, who gives the birds flight? Who tells the sky to paint itself into a masterpiece every evening, who tells the mockingbird to sing such pretty songs? What blindness we have. These things that I neglect, these wonderful aspects of the world that I've forgotten; while I wasted away on things indoors, things I thought wee worth my time, I forgot the beauty of the world. There's something to find out there, and I swear upon my grave I will search the world for it. No longer will I spend my time watching poise themselves, give their best seflie, show their best side. I know it won't be immediate, but I want to learn the art of living yet again. I want to remember how to hold a pen, to read a book. To learn, to laugh a real laugh, to see real things. I want to learn how to think again.

There's hope for us. I want to put it all down, all the things I know I don't need. Checking facebook, wasting away on instagram. Spending my time learning useless facts on youtube. Our grandparents didn't need them. Do we? This is a world hard traveled by without such things, but very manageable. Do you want to search the world alongside I, to find what I'm seeking? To find what master creation serves, to see him. To find the wonder, spark the curiousity. Relive the days of old, the time when fairytales thrived. I know it exists; this world was meant to have a theme from the very start. Would you like to find it? 

Will you seek out the magic of this earth?