Magic:
Sometimes I sleep while the nations roll round,
Mimicking bravery, muffling the sound
Of unspeakable slavery...
Sometimes I weep as the voice in the sky
Whispers the reasons I ought not to die,
Murmurs of treason,
And fades to a sigh.
Hesitance followed me, painfully lingering
Wrapped round the dreams I was painfully fingering
Wrapped round the fire that was slowly receding
Wrapped round my life who lay painlessly bleeding.
I lived alone when I'd no one to tell.
I was my own and I built my own cell.
Harsh, stark, and dim, wherein no man could hear me -
Wherein no cry could reach me, wherein no sun could sear me.
Many men knew me, or saw, or perceived me.
Many men loved me, and fewer believed me.
Their lives were insane, their faces were tragic,
And I went on wandering, searching for magic.
The road was my heaven - fair, far, and free,
And there I imagined that I ought to be
What anyone dared to desire of me.
...Fighting with lies, bathed in goodbyes
Searching the people with angels for eyes...
One night I gazed at a star, warm and white,
And prayed to remember, and prayed to be right...
Too tired of waiting. Too tired of hating.
Too tired of watching my spirit abating.
I let my glance wander and I cast my eyes on
Some kind of magic beyond the horizon.
Some breath of freedom, of life... or of truth
Some breath of something I knew in my youth.
It lightened my heart. It strengthened my soul.
It as my own reason for living - my goal.
