The CrystalBall The Explot

The Crystal ball explosion

A crystal ball, heavy as fate, sits in the dark.

Mist swirls inside—silver, black, like hushed thoughts.

whispers curling in on themselves, forming shapes,

faces, places that should not be seen ever in our world.

It knows. It sees. It breathes. It grows it’s alive.

The mist thickens, pulses,something inside is waking.

A flicker of movement,

A hand? A mouth? A thousand staring eyes?

The mist churns, restless, growing,

a silent storm trapped in glass,

pushing, stretching, screaming without sound.

Thena loud deafening sound came and a CRACK.

A hairline fracture.

A breath of cold air.

A pulse, a tremor, a final, shattering—

BANG.

Glass explodes like dying stars.

Shards rain, slicing through shadow.

The mist is loose.

It coils, writhes, shifts—then it’s gone.

Vanished.

Fled into the cracks of the world,

into lungs, into dreams, into the spaces

between the seconds.

Where did it go?

Where hasn’t it gone?

Only the shattered glass knows,

and the wind that howls in the darkness