And somewhere, in a busy corner of a bustling street, stays a man. A tired man. There's something that tears him apart. But, he never shows. For, if he cries, the worldly beings will assume he's weak. He has failed to attain his dreams, and the attempts have left him weary. But,he isn't ready to give up yet. Because, he is his hero, and heroes are invincible.
And, in his mind, there's a never-ending conflict. He carries a storm in his soul, hidden from the world by the protective encasement of his mighty ribs. There's a queer emptiness in his life. Deep within, he is cut, and he is bruised. He doesn't talk a lot, and when you talk to him, once in a while he smiles. An incomplete smile.
But, he never stops dreaming. The shades of his dreams, color his world a shade brighter, every night. For, he is bent, not broken. For, he never lets the hope die. For, his faith is unshaken. He believes, someday, all his 'nights' will reach their 'dawn'. He walks alone, and he knows, someday, fate will be in his favor. Someday, his hard work and perseverance will grant him the boon of his dreams. Someday, He will glide through the storms. He will soar high above the clouds. And someday, the torrential rains wouldn't be mighty enough to harm his wings.
For, even though he is exhausted, he never learnt to give up.
And there lies the magic. For, magic resides within us. And it's upon us, how we let it sparkle.