Twenty, Day

The magic, dear
is in the air
and you can feel it on my skin
gods and devils roam around
claiming souls again.

I did not stop
and did not hope
and did not feel
the fear inside–
I was too numb
and born to late
a heart too old to die.

Yet now I feel
though just a bit
and want to dream again–
but still my heart is very old
and I would lay it down.

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