Simple minded thoughts ended long ago with the falling of the leaves in autumn.
Autumn was the time of my birth but spring is the time of my death.
Spring is when the flowers bloom but I wither despite it all.
Some might say these thoughts are that of someone insane.
Some are right.
Still, what is insanity?
Is it nothing more but the realization that your heart has a beat and that the beat will someday stop.
If so then I suppose I am insane.
I was brilliant as a child.
I had blackish hair and the bluest eyes.
I was sharp witted and clever.
Now as I grow older I realize I was a fool.
I was always a fool.
Still something very strong lived in me.
It was the will of the light.
I was the child of the light.
A bumblebee of sorts.
Buzzing a trying to find my way into the light.
I see now that it was always there, contained in my beltloop where my wand resided.
When I used that wand I was setting forth light and it was stopping the dark.
Now I am very very old.
Older then someone should be, but the light will not let me die.
I have tried many a time.
I have the cuts on my wrists to prove it.
Perhaps I know too much to die.
I have seen the ways of man. I am worst off for it.
Still I am a bee at heart.
One day I must use my stinger.
When a bee uses his stinger he dies.
Voldemort is in my view now.
He laughs at me and I smile too.
Laughter is contagious, I always say.
So is the flu and the plague.
They tell me I am more powerful then him.
They tell me I alone can beat him.
The boy is powerful as well but he just that.
A boy.
This is my battle to win.
All I have to do is get towards him with the light, my wand.
My wand, my stinger.
My mind races as I do so.
Thoughts flash through my mind.
A bee dies when he stings.
He dies trying to protect what little he has.
I know I must protect this place, this school.
I must....
It is time.
I know he will kill me.
I have to kill him.
Sting.
Minerva stared at the ashes of the two wizards in front of her.
"Good-bye, Albus. Tom."
Next to Albus lied his wand.
His stinger.
Autumn was the time of my birth but spring is the time of my death.
Spring is when the flowers bloom but I wither despite it all.
Some might say these thoughts are that of someone insane.
Some are right.
Still, what is insanity?
Is it nothing more but the realization that your heart has a beat and that the beat will someday stop.
If so then I suppose I am insane.
I was brilliant as a child.
I had blackish hair and the bluest eyes.
I was sharp witted and clever.
Now as I grow older I realize I was a fool.
I was always a fool.
Still something very strong lived in me.
It was the will of the light.
I was the child of the light.
A bumblebee of sorts.
Buzzing a trying to find my way into the light.
I see now that it was always there, contained in my beltloop where my wand resided.
When I used that wand I was setting forth light and it was stopping the dark.
Now I am very very old.
Older then someone should be, but the light will not let me die.
I have tried many a time.
I have the cuts on my wrists to prove it.
Perhaps I know too much to die.
I have seen the ways of man. I am worst off for it.
Still I am a bee at heart.
One day I must use my stinger.
When a bee uses his stinger he dies.
Voldemort is in my view now.
He laughs at me and I smile too.
Laughter is contagious, I always say.
So is the flu and the plague.
They tell me I am more powerful then him.
They tell me I alone can beat him.
The boy is powerful as well but he just that.
A boy.
This is my battle to win.
All I have to do is get towards him with the light, my wand.
My wand, my stinger.
My mind races as I do so.
Thoughts flash through my mind.
A bee dies when he stings.
He dies trying to protect what little he has.
I know I must protect this place, this school.
I must....
It is time.
I know he will kill me.
I have to kill him.
Sting.
Minerva stared at the ashes of the two wizards in front of her.
"Good-bye, Albus. Tom."
Next to Albus lied his wand.
His stinger.