Mystic powers play the role,
forever present in the soul;
to quite fears or pay the toll,
that rules our belief.

To wonder is the present power,
to stay within our given hour;
to taste the sweet and then the sour,
to harvest our relief.

So when the tongs of love unfold,
the heart won't reason when it's told;
no limits to the young or old,
then turns to grim delight.

But mystic is the thoughts that be,
if love is good or misery;
depending on the things we see,
in mist that is the night.

The heart must choose as it is said,
to join the living, not the dead;
and live on love that's always lead,
A love that won't get old.

For mystic powers always send,
a message to your magic friend;
and mates a love that will not end,
a partner of the soul.