Fingers crossed against his face.
Worlds colliding, in a dimly grace.
Here lie the things that was never seen.
A world without magic, that had never been.
Fearful of those graces which doesn’t make sense.
We search in vain for those moments
where the world become sane.
We hoped and hoped we would never fail.
Arts are never wrong for they are simply minds led astray.
© Christopher Stamfors