poetry

Charmed I’m Sure

Back before I became charming, 

I was charmed for a second, true story.

I seriously thought because of my dreams as a child, that by my teens & early 20’s, I was a witch, no other explanation came, other then beingcompletely taken by this concept, they lived what appeared a good lifestyle. 

Not ugly like horror pictures displayed, but that’s not true either, because its an inside job.

I mean everyone wanted a supernatural ability, a hero superpower, mine’s happened to be witches, I was mesmerized looking at the movie Craft and Bewitched, Sabrina, even I Dream of Jeannie had an appeal of magic and Charmed on tv. 

It was revealed to me then, it was just another method to programming, more measures to weaken strong mind’s..again.

I know the powers that be are going to have a ball with the young generation of today, for they’re minds are so openly accessible to everything, technology we never imagined, and so when they say a renewed Charmed is on the horizon, coming soon, it pierces my heart for our “future”, our children. Considering their music, and pictures like Lucifer, among other’s are taking, and not giving back a single thing. Just my Thoughts.

—The Story before the poetry———————————

Charmed I’m Sure

I still have dreams that come true quite often .

That had to be the reason for these new 3D phophetic dreams, or when I didn’t like someone how they up and died it seemed, right?

But I always believed in the Most High God, so those around me questioned the ways of my new young thinking. 

I often prayed, and was raised in church as a child. 

So what was I doing with this brewing inside me, the oil and candles love, trying to snuff out my spirituality? 

The tarot cards I threw away, because they wouldn’t burn, 

as I had began taking my show on the road, reading futures for donations in turn.

I was trying to get a handle on the scandal of my dreams, to shape up and find other ways to analyze these visions in ways they too were clearly seen, because there wasn’t any plausible reasoning in all this awakenings and swaying off course, and into some wiccan atmosphere unforced. 

I became so deep inside myself.

I began seeing darkness cross my picture window outside, but no one else would, no airplane or helicopters in sight, or Art Van moving trucks parking to the right.

Yet somehow something dark, began decreasing my light.

I began speaking to God as often as possible, knowing fool well the gifts of vision and dreams obtained were by Him that flowed, as I worried sorrowfully as new disturbances came and growed.

Was I living a double life, cheating on my Saviour with nocturnal’s night, that entranced my days?

Bringing forth a sinister force more compelling and spiteful my way, more powerful and larger than me in height?

Was I walking backwards away from knowledge’s light?  And all I’d gained by my Father, that He taught me right, or was I caught up in the middle of a plot’s fight? 

Asking with nerve, in reversing  a curse inside my Creator’s already war strickened universe, unknowingly channeling for peace and riches to be, at what cost as my soul is His. 

So what gain could be truthfully, ethically disbursed?

I had to sit back, reaccess, the error of my ways, with half of my knowledge dropping this issue fast, before my prayer’s went unanswered by my Savior who forgives 70 x 70 of my past.

Simply brought on, due to what started as questions to dreams, surmounting into a distasteful disastrous path. 

Besides I enjoy my relationship  with God speaking with him daily.

As for being a witch in my youth to regroup, with no proof of that path, became an epic fail exposing yet another con the spells and that I’m completely awful at math.  🙂

Poetry By Tamara Dorsey-Moore

Thinker on the Loose

Copyright (c) 2017 Reserved purposes intended. Any lesson is a lesson learned.

Thanks for reading <3’s

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