Where is the magick?
Where is the spark?
Where are the enchanting nights?
Where is the fire in your fingertips?
All that remains is the love.
All that remains are those moments.
All that remains is the music.
Where is the grey where we mingle?
All that remains is black and white.
All seems to be good and evil.
The white wind wanderer still works her magick
to enchant the dark one forever more.
Listen to the wind,
breathe its magick,
see the light beyond the clouds.
In light and night,
I see you.