Diaries of the Moonlight Hours

I still dream. I still hope. No matter how foolish I know it is.

But the most natural and purest of emotions, I’ve been deterring those. Lately.

The spell was not too noticeable. Difficult to see. That was the beauty of it. Only the truly wonderous would dare lay eyes upon it.

A strong reminder that I, too, needed to remain standing. Even if all odds stood against me.

Nothing is making itself clear. I wish I got a more obvious sign of what I could do.

I still write to you. What a damned shame.