Tragic Magic

At the dawn’s premier light, ride up higher.
With a Shanghai sunrise, come easy rider.
It’s the black-and-white horizon that colors always misunderstand
But it’s just the way that I am.
Rowing my cool and holding your hand.

It's the end of July, young lion, 
Did the oceanic wind catch your fire?
Has the electric verse on the movie screen caught your silver
Through the darkening dire river
Freeing the spirit culture had, 
In the Californian run, the sand, the land. 


They were stranger's forever, we were forever's stranger. 
An evermore and a never, a cover of dangers.  

Published by

Watt

It's all a matter of rust and shine, to serve a distinction between to have and to have not.

4 thoughts on “Tragic Magic”

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