weep under your curtain, harry.
my condolences go with you and
the secrets you hide to overcome the enemy.
your foe, a slight man of pale face and animosity.
why, what dangers and losses you will find!
if you were to pull the curtain off.
but i say to you, be still.
there is no agony for the hero to feel.
the good always wins.
but that means that i will have to fail.
you see, harry, my world is not yours.
and though you have dealt with
a household of facile beings,
no pain, no torture, no death, nor life
could be worse than what i have been accused of.
i am no maiden, no damsel in distress
that must be saved.
i am the individual.
a being that carries your invisible curtain for eternity,
without the pleasure of removing it
and becoming of importance
to a world who does not deserve me.
