People believe magic is dead,
Killed in Cold Blood,
By hard science,
And cold logic.
But some things can't be quantified
By equations and theories.
Look up my friend for
The sheer beauty of a starry night sky,
The raw power of God's wrath streaking through stormy skies,
The epic grandeur of the setting sun shining
It's dying light
On Glittering snow capped mountains,
The inexplicable joy of seeing your loved ones,
Still lie firmly in the realm of magic.