A/N:
Since I have gotten mixed reviews on this poem so far I just want to make one thing very clear: I do not, or will I ever think of Snape with anything except the utmost respect. He is my all time favorite character in Harry Potter and therefore has been the generator of ideas I have found to be inspirational, and as such has been the unlucky target of some of their negative aspects. Though this poem is not meant to be uplifting per se, and may be viewed as somewhat pessimistic, such is not geared toward Snape- it is simply written from a realistic and objective viewpoint, solely because I found the word flow to be beautiful. It is a mere interpretation of those things that J.K. Rowling revealed, and in no way dictates my opinion about him. Quite the contrary, I think he is an invaluable character and he garners nothing save absolute reverence on my part. So this is my personal take on him for those of you that may have been mislead.
Secondly, because this poem is rather cryptic I have provided footnotes at the bottom. Though the passages can be analyzed loosely, and it behooves you not to overthink them as they can be applied to many different people and in many different ways, and can even be read without indications of character references, for those of you that tend to overcomplicate matters as I do I have broken down the passages for easier reading. Though they do not need to be applied as a rule because the poem is generic, the notes will help you understand where my thoughts were lending with regards to Snape.
I hope this clears up the fog for those of you that may have been sitting on the fence about certain matters. I want you to know that I am really grateful to you for your input, and let you know that each and every one of your reviews count. Even when it is criticism, it only serves to make my work better. So thanks so much to all of you. To those of you that are interested, please take time to view my other Snape works as well- which happily carry on a slightly lighter quality.
Empty Dreams
There lives within,
A potion of empty dreams.
No one knows it lies,
But nature is made ten times more bitter.
To live in the past, to dream,
Is to make empty promises.
Sweeping up and cloaking,
to paint a picture pretty,
a spring from cruel, cold hist'ry.
Flowers growing, blooming, glowing,
Farmer's work of tilling, pruning.
We all must work to earn our wages,
Payment's not always in gold and shillings.
No one knows the pain of silence,
More than those whose fruits lay quiet,
Yet here enlies a satisfaction deep,
The demonic friend of the self-made victor.
Fruits are not always what they seem,
Payments, shillings, not all pleasure.
But they're often seen in pure discolor,
Rarely in their true demeanor.
We often see the pleasure picture
As our dreams instruct us to see glamour,
The naked eye cannot unveil,
That beneath the cloak is substance dour.
The fruits in their true light uncovered,
The retribution that their color showers,
Acts that are heroic, true,
The uncloaking, the unveiling, not seen, too soon.
For never twill we see this flower,
Till the bearer of the chest empowers,
A locksmith with the key, in sooth,
Wants its giving it till the sand runs over.
Time is up, and treasure bearer,
Knows not that others can see the terror,
Yet when we find it, when 'tis opened,
The portrait shatters, the fruits all scatter.
Heroic fruits of empty sighs, not seen until their owner withers.
Empty Dreams.
Footnotes:
Passage 1: We harbor dreams that are empty. Though often unseen, such dreams make us bitter (this can be seen as an indirect reference to Snape's dreams of Lily).
Passage 2: In references to Snape, much of the time he is living in the past. His goal in life is to honor Lily, and his experiences with bullying from the Marauders (cruel cold history) have created the visage (picture pretty) of invincibility he portrays to the world. In a generic sense, many of us live in a different time and are unable to move forward- thus we often make promises to ourselves that turn out empty.
Passage 3: Snape spent the rest of his life after Lily and Jame's death paying for his part in their demise. The invaluable work in which he engages for the Order and to protect Harry reap no other payment than his own penitence- thus, payment's not always in gold and shillings.
Passage 4: The fruits of Snape's labor (or penitence) are quiet, for no one except him- and Albus Dumbledore- knows of his link to Lily. Snape is a self-sufficient man who revels in working alone, thus he derives a deep sense of satisfaction from the work he does for the Order because of, or perhaps in spite of its solitary nature. In spite of the fact that at times that isolation may hurt him.
Passage 5: In reference to the fact that people do not always realize payment's not necessarily a good thing, and sometimes carries a bitter nature for the reaper.
Passage 6: People as a species have a tendency to fantasize and absorb information as we see fit. Though on the outset a person may seem truly remarkable and epic (such as Snape) beneath that pretty cloak there may be more to that picture (substance dour).
Passage 7: Snape is a remarkable person with many distinguishing qualities and factors- heroic, really- that for years have remained hidden. The noble character he embodied was not seen till his death.
Passage 8: We cannot find such hidden characteristics (as indicated in passage 7) until the person garnering them (or the locksmith) sees fit to reveal them. Because Snape as a locksmith did not feel inclined to give us these treasures, the audience had to wait until he died (hence the phrase 'wants its giving till the sand runs over').
Passage 9: A bit of a reiteration of the notion that we did not understand the true character of Snape until his untimely death. The only slightly different information the passage harbors can be found in the second to last and the last sentence, where I deem his fruits of labor heroic, albeit riddled with empty sighs (again a reference to Lily). The last phrase expounds upon the theme of the entire poem, that being that Snape had empty dreams.
Note: As the document manager wouldn't allow me to separate the poem into its original passages, generally they can be estimated at three or four lines apiece. They are fairly determinable, but I apologize for the inconvenience. If anyone knows of a way to separate them please holler.