Let me read you a poem I made.
All he wanted to do is be a friend
Before man brought him to his very end
Last of his kind, left to die
At least when he does he will fly high
Body consumed by time, mind started to meld
Into the very weapons you once held
Man, consumed by wrath
All he could do was forge his own path
So tell me reader, do you believe in magic?
If you described this story it would be one word
Tragic.
What do you think?
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