Night. Book. Room. Quill

Night. Book. Room. Quill.
I'm sitting here, it is so lonely,
But how do love this silence I.
I'm looking at the paper ship so slowly,
But I don't know what words to write on it, oh my.

And suddenly there was a bright light in my eyes,
An inspiration started pouring from my hands,
And I am writing brokenly, so fast, like in the dance,
The papers now are filled with streaming knocks and words.

And my room was so lit and shiny,
The star dusk's spinning all around me,
And the enchated words are casting and framing,
The rushing thoughts inside my mind, surprising.

And that how I was starring at it,
Seemed like it's not the life, but fairytale alive!
That dream is going on, it doesn't leave me for a bit,
And dream is still effusing down my hands, I'm looking through the glimpse of light.

The wonder's coming out of my hands,
It's not a usual life, a real sorcery happens here!..
Night. Book. Room. Quill.
The fays are softly saving my magic under the hill.