And the dreams seem rather real this time.
How does your magic work so dangerously the later it is in a day's worth, I wonder, but never wish to have the answer known.
The things you adore, the way you are, the way you were given to this earth, are all the reason I have falled hard and there is no return available.
My soul has gone to a different place,
A place where tears are acceptable as long as they bring joy.
Of beer, of music, of all your marks,
I left a memory of the beauty that is you,
A kind of beauty I write of every night,
After night,
After night.
So fall asleep as I kiss you good night,
And I might just make the stars shine brighter this,
and every night.
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