"Those Who Don´t Believe In Magic..." by Kirsty ´Chibs´ Morrison

The moon is hanging low in a clear indigo sky

And I can’t/won’t/shan’t (?) sleep although I try and try

For the wind that is blowing tells of fortune in the West

And this night seems to be charmed, by magic, almost blessed

It seems like I can feel the hum of every living thing

Every movement, every breath, every bird upon the wing

So I rush to the window, let the charmed breeze inside,

Smell the trace of wood smoke, no longer can I bide,

So find me, spirit me, carry me away,

Let us fly through night until we reach day,

Adventure, magic, to feel absolutely free,

I can take it, I’ll be waiting, just come and find me,

Pulse is racing, heart is beating, gone are all the lies,

Magic at my fingertips, fire in my eyes

And oh! I can hear them, flying swiftly near,

A company of horses, to make my shackles disappear,

How can no one feel this? Why is it only me?

They are white as snow, horses of the sea

And I’m running, stumbling, tripping, flying to the door,

Pulse racing even faster, heart beating all the more,

I climb up quickly and we’re gone into the night,

Hooves beating out the rhythm for our moonlit flight,

They will never catch me; I am faster than anything made,

All my senses come alive and sharpened like a blade,

They didn’t feel this magic, those I left behind,

But what you don’t believe in… you will never find.