„I don’t believe in magic”, the young boy said. The old man smiled „You will, when you see her!”
I took her hand and my heart beat fast as her warmth swallowed me up.
Her eyes were all that young love should be, and they lit me up in every look
We lay in shooting skies and freckled stars and promised our love would last forever- and so in our forever it would there in a castle atop of Blueberry Hill, with silver moon rivers and sailing ships.