I have this thirst for magic
The ones that really happen after a period called 'the static solitude'.
The one that breaks through a perdited soul,
the one that reminds you the smell of the sea shores,
The one that will put me to a path called stardom,
The one that got you and me to the land called freedom,
But this was a thought that emerged through lonely boredom,
sitting by the window on a chair in my bedroom.
So will this tamper my belief towards magic?
The answer won't surprise me for its weight is no heavy than the times I have broken down and cried and hoped too much and struggled through the time.
None of them, none at all-
Will make me belive in it.
Because I am not a magician  and
Apparently  it doesn't take me to cast a spell.
But the secret lies no far ahead.
I am the magic.