I have dreamt of the "magic" on a white horse, as a kid. He arrived with lots of laughter in pockets of his ripped jeans. Poured music from his eyes on my silent streams. He looked at me in awe, every day. Memorised the places of my scars and reminded me that I am brave. He rejoiced each of me as a phase of the moon. Took me to places even though I called him a loon. I saw magic. And it is truly what I could never have imagined. It's real. And it's more than beautiful. It's more poetic than all chaos can be. ©nocturnal_muse_ The blue skies and the turquoise water I still remember the stories before Agustus waters The hand I would see without any colour Escaping into places which never really appeared With a brush of reality, He entered Renaming my weird as his enamour Driving my madness to his home.
