"Is magic real?
If it is... then how I wish I possess such powerful incantation to reach every one I love," he plead.
"Is magic real?
If it is... then how I wish I am able to illuminate the darkness to myself from my every dear," he demanded.
"Is magic real?
If it is not then may I negotiate a deal in exchange for my darling's life?
Take me instead. I take heed," he bellowed.
Deafening silence
like
mourn,
grief,
death.
His words
unheard,
muted,
ignored,
slaughtered.
"You cannot save anyone unless they rescue themselves."
"You cannot love anyone unless you love yourself."
"You cannot give and share what you lack and what you do not possess."
"For you are your own you."
"What is humanity?" he asked.
"Why do you utter such pointless speech?"
"You are more wiser than I expected you would be."
"You already hold the answers to your questions."
"You do not need me."
He does
but
what can he do
if
it has decided
on
its
own.
"For love is true when you let them go.
If they come back,
is it not what you call
fate
and
mate to be?"
