This is my first Song-fic, so I hope you all like it! It tells about what Sirius was going through in Azkaban emotionally, and how he decides his own fate. Feedback is much appreciated. C'mon, live a little...read and review! I don't own the song. Or the series. If I did, would I be publishing on a fan-fiction site?!
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Sitting here, throwing stones at the walls that held me prisoner for all this endless time. How long, I know not of. Who can bother counting, who can bother caring?
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
This place. What is it? It's what I've called home for who knows how long. Can't make up my mind, cannot think straight. Forced into their line of thinking, the ones who occupy this hollow place with me, forced to be one of them, no mind of my own.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
The cloaked creatures come by, all is lost. Every time I think of how I got here, I try and remember, but fail. Each time they pass, more is lost, more is gone. If I could only remember in which way I miserably messed up, in which way it was I came to be here, perhaps I could find a shred of hope within...
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
Free...the words whisper to me, calling. Life beyond this Hell, is all but unimaginable. If I could remember anything, anything at all, I want to-need to remember I once had life before this place. Something tells me it was there. Not altogether gone yet, but on pause, waiting for me to continue.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
Sitting here, eyeing up the stones. Sharp edges, most likely could inflict pain.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
The creatures pass me yet again, but as they do this time, I can recall something. Remembrance alone would be a relief-but what is it I remember?
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
Friends. I had friends outside of this enslavement. Let them down, in the worst way possible. Betrayal...I led that dirty rat to betray them.To betray those innocent creatures, the few that I knew-gone, ceased away, because of me. I am nought but a rat myself.
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
Free...the words hiss at me, spitefully spitting my name. Name-mine is none but filth. Couldn't even take on a shred of responsibility,could have made all the difference. Frustrated...cannot change it...nothing can be done now...there is no such thing as freedom.
Discover...
Reaching out to remember more...is there something more? Yes, I can feel it.
No one knows what it's like
To be mistreated
To be defeated
behind blue eyes
Missing out on this thing called life...being attacked from only one side, having all the provisions and strength necessary to win, but lacking the victorious element. That is truly defeat. I have suffered through it on more than several occasions. And still, I know, there was something more.
And no one knows how to say that they're sorry
And dont worry
I'm not telling lies
Her. As these creatures draw near, they reinvent the memory of-her. What I can remember from this time is, failure yet again. She would have done anything for me, I promised her I'd do the same. Could I do that? Here I sit, alone, far away, and now I can answer myself, no, I could not even do that much.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
Every lingering thought about every memory re-hashed, by these creatures, by the haunting silhouette of my past life, tortures now the remnants of my withering heart. Turned cold long, long, ago, ever since I committed these horrendous deeds, not only to land myself in here, but to slowly shatter my heart.
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengence
That's never free
Every lingering memory of friendship...every moment of intimacy...love...I try to feel enough to recall these moments, desperately attempting to reach out and recall my life, for now I know it existed. I question myself-will it ever get the chance to catch up with what is left of this hollow shell of a man?
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Sitting here, fingering the stones. For so long, they have served me as a vent of frustration, a symbol of emptiness. After all I let go of, after everyone I let down, I deserve nothing more than a stone to the chest. But, that same old feeling-here it is again, telling me that there is something still to look forward to, something in the future to embrace. Will I ever know what this unknown sentiment will foretell? Until then, I will sit here, guilt breeding in my head, dread locked in my heart, desperately clinging to that one little shred of hope. I will sit here, festered with emotion, keeping it all well-hidden, behind blue eyes.
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Sitting here, throwing stones at the walls that held me prisoner for all this endless time. How long, I know not of. Who can bother counting, who can bother caring?
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
This place. What is it? It's what I've called home for who knows how long. Can't make up my mind, cannot think straight. Forced into their line of thinking, the ones who occupy this hollow place with me, forced to be one of them, no mind of my own.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
The cloaked creatures come by, all is lost. Every time I think of how I got here, I try and remember, but fail. Each time they pass, more is lost, more is gone. If I could only remember in which way I miserably messed up, in which way it was I came to be here, perhaps I could find a shred of hope within...
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
Free...the words whisper to me, calling. Life beyond this Hell, is all but unimaginable. If I could remember anything, anything at all, I want to-need to remember I once had life before this place. Something tells me it was there. Not altogether gone yet, but on pause, waiting for me to continue.
No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do
And I blame you
Sitting here, eyeing up the stones. Sharp edges, most likely could inflict pain.
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through
The creatures pass me yet again, but as they do this time, I can recall something. Remembrance alone would be a relief-but what is it I remember?
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
Friends. I had friends outside of this enslavement. Let them down, in the worst way possible. Betrayal...I led that dirty rat to betray them.To betray those innocent creatures, the few that I knew-gone, ceased away, because of me. I am nought but a rat myself.
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free
Free...the words hiss at me, spitefully spitting my name. Name-mine is none but filth. Couldn't even take on a shred of responsibility,could have made all the difference. Frustrated...cannot change it...nothing can be done now...there is no such thing as freedom.
Discover...
Reaching out to remember more...is there something more? Yes, I can feel it.
No one knows what it's like
To be mistreated
To be defeated
behind blue eyes
Missing out on this thing called life...being attacked from only one side, having all the provisions and strength necessary to win, but lacking the victorious element. That is truly defeat. I have suffered through it on more than several occasions. And still, I know, there was something more.
And no one knows how to say that they're sorry
And dont worry
I'm not telling lies
Her. As these creatures draw near, they reinvent the memory of-her. What I can remember from this time is, failure yet again. She would have done anything for me, I promised her I'd do the same. Could I do that? Here I sit, alone, far away, and now I can answer myself, no, I could not even do that much.
But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
Every lingering thought about every memory re-hashed, by these creatures, by the haunting silhouette of my past life, tortures now the remnants of my withering heart. Turned cold long, long, ago, ever since I committed these horrendous deeds, not only to land myself in here, but to slowly shatter my heart.
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengence
That's never free
Every lingering memory of friendship...every moment of intimacy...love...I try to feel enough to recall these moments, desperately attempting to reach out and recall my life, for now I know it existed. I question myself-will it ever get the chance to catch up with what is left of this hollow shell of a man?
No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
Sitting here, fingering the stones. For so long, they have served me as a vent of frustration, a symbol of emptiness. After all I let go of, after everyone I let down, I deserve nothing more than a stone to the chest. But, that same old feeling-here it is again, telling me that there is something still to look forward to, something in the future to embrace. Will I ever know what this unknown sentiment will foretell? Until then, I will sit here, guilt breeding in my head, dread locked in my heart, desperately clinging to that one little shred of hope. I will sit here, festered with emotion, keeping it all well-hidden, behind blue eyes.