Black Magic was born from the underground,
wandering the darkness, lost in the moon light.
A gypsy soul, an enigma, a beautiful mystery
She was here, then she was gone before the rising of the sun.
A daydreamer, a mystic –
there are no labels to define her wild spirit.
She prances through the night
and blooms in the twilight of dawn.
Enclosed in each lash box lies a trinket of wisdom
which she’s gathered along her journeys –
fastened with a seal, awaiting reveal.
A relic, a charm, a talisman for safekeeping.
She’ll only let you know a small part of her,
she’s a universe full of secrets.
Her soul breathed mystery & intrigue,
She was her own kind of magic.