AN: Hello everybody, another one of my random angsty sad poems again, feel free to review and happy belated merry christmas and happy new year :)
Oh yeah and before I forget the DISCLAIMER: I don't own HP.
The Shadow of a Man once Past.
His scent follows me everywhere I go. Even as I venture into the darkness, the unknown it is still there. I fear it will never leave me and yet in the depths of my mind I hope it never does.
That scent is the epitomine of muskness, yet in it all it seems fresh like a light dusting of cinnamion mixed in with the intoxicating inebration of that dirty, black smoke that billowed from his cigarettes so easily. How I missed his scent. Yet it seems to follow me everywhere I go, like a shadow; my shadow. The essence of Sirius forever bound in my step.
I seem drawn to the idea that even as death has claimed him as it's own, he is still with me in everyway that counts. That smell, that scent still lingers as he has passed never allowing me to forget his ghostly figure and mabye thats what hurts the most.
Being able to smell him but never truly be with him as he cannot be seen or heard. It's in times like these that I need to remind myself my Sirius, my shadow is irefutiably gone and dead, never to walk this earth again. Yet to me it won't make a difference, it won't stop my pining my need for him any less.
He is gone.
As the light cascades in from his murky bedroom window all I see is myself. A broken and bitter man with half that as his reflection, no shadow for support. Why would the fates be so cruel? The answer I do not have. All I know is that I'm alone once again left with fostering this bitterness inside. All I can ask myself is...
Why Sirius?
Why?
AN: Drop me a review, let me know what you thought and have a happy new year :)