The winds want me to write today. Tell them tales of magic and love. Stories written beyond time. Love that is boundless and lovers that are forever. They want me to tell of reality, of fairy-tales that exist. They want to know of the prince that came on the horse and the mermaid who came out of the water. They want to know more. Of the castles and orchids. Of carriages that were our vehicle. And the knight who was the magician. They want to play with a sprinkle of hope and make it real.
Behind those black inked characters on the paper, lies the reality. Of some people, crazy but real. The ones who dream even if they convince themselves of the reality. People who like imaginations, and believe, maybe someday horses will fly. These people who are the heroes and heroines of many tales. They look beyond the sky and pray when the shooting star falls. They have a twinkle in the eyes when they talk of love. Of magic they saw in others. They talk of broken hearts and fallen dreams. They sing a song to their nightingale and dance behind closed doors as if practicing for that perfect song. Their house smells of old books and fresh cakes. They have wine for that perfect moment and they look insanely good even with flour on their nose.
These are the people who keep magic alive and humanity sane. For they dream in a world that is their own. They are the mad believers who desire just love. They are the ones worth writing for.
Also Prompted @Theme Thursday