Mystery
It's plainly a frenzy of ignority
it's a vainly protest but it strikes a chord with me
while his wand is trying to solve that charm all by his own
the sorcerer tries to stop his tears from falling down
The poor-minded were prowling in their illusions
yet, they find out that desoluting, cataclysmic conclusion
they'd kept that terrifying mystery under wraps
but decennia afterwards all was written down in a map
Their mysteries araise, they breath, they live
telling the opposite would be an outright lie
It seems as though they live in a golden cage,
quirky enough but too lazy to fly
Losing this luxuary would be their biggest bereavement
Limelight-shy in theory but always standing in front