In a tenacious world, we roll in the rust shining like gold. In between mud and glory an immortal desire to push for next, to push for the best our souls evolve.
Love what a magical feeling, a boon followed by the curse and circling to a boon we fly like moths to the light.
This a fine example of magic mixed in a city. Sometimes when you walk into a city during the middle of the winter, and still hope to belong here ignites is no logical paradox. It's pure magic. Pure magic that molds into metal and steel, deep into our hearts powering us through this tenacious world.
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