My poetry is a call for mutiny,
Master of escape like Houdini,
For me it’s a catharsis,
They think of it as an artifice,
Swear at me,
Redemption is what to expect,
Swear on me,
Considering me as a sacred text,
Tendrils hanging over her temple,
Love is the religion,
Faith and prayers in ample.

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Friends turning foes and foes into friends
With fewer words and punches - a many
I guard my abdomen to my wits’ ends
For I am a mere human and no Houdini

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My own Houdini trick:

Misfortunes befall
And I lament in the darkest corner
Tears gushing over my quite sobs,
Nobody knew.
The morning appears
I stand bright as the Sun
Warm to hold the wounded,
Smiles renewed.

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She told me she loved magic. Little did I know that she would pull a Houdini's disappearing act on me.

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