And as I travel the ruins of my recovering magical world, strangers will ask "What is your name?".Only but a murmur escapes my lips, "No one..." I say. (series of poems dedicated to requested HP characters)
There were ordinary but pitiful people who lived on this land that I saw when I was young. Their lives passed like the wind and now I'm going to tell you about them you didn't know.
.
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I, who still think I'm not good enough, will now write with all my passion and dedication, but if I ever get lost or collapse from exhaustion, even if it's just one of their souls, I ask them to come running to me and help.