Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter characters, thought don't we all wish
we did
Summary: A poem inspired by Remus Lupin PG because I felt like it
The Werewolf
The sun sets slowly over the peaks of a mountain
A waterfall is silenced to the drip of a fountain
Darkness consumes everything in sight
The day has given way to another night
When all seems quiet, the sun's setting diminished
A thought whispers that nights not nearly finished
A small hint of light peeks over the hill
Then suddenly the flood of a full moon begins to spill
Diurnal life is hidden away
Yet nocturnal creatures come out to play
Though human at first, a transformation begins
From hands to paws, to fur from skins
A demon of myths, a bringer of childhood tears
The werewolf creeps in to replenish your fears
Through the soul of a man comes a beast of great might
When all are asleep, he alone walks the night
To live in the shadows, to creep down the street
A conscience, a soul, and a mind that's complete
Somewhere under the monster, these things are all hidden
For a werewolf to feel, it is strictly forbidden
Instead he lives on, broken, to cower
Drowned by a force that's out of his power
The kill is not the fault of the man, but the beast
On this tortured soul, the creature can feast
Soon dawn rears its head to frighten the creature
The wolf is lost to a humanly feature
A man awakes from a night of great pain
With visions that make his mind feel insane
The town hunts a wolf, silver bullets in hand
A search, quite simple, is all they had planned
Morning, afternoon, and dusk fly by
The night sets in as the sun says goodbye
"The search was unsuccessful," one man pointed out
"Maybe the wolf is gone," anther dared to shout
In the head of a man, the secret was thought
Why the wolf was not found, since only beasts were sought
As the moon appeared, he hurried home fast
His human form was not sure to last
He found a cage, and locked himself up tight
Making sure he could not ever roam again in the night.
Each full moon night in that cage he would spend
A tortured soul without a friend
He continued to live his life as a lie
A werewolf, a man to frightened to cry
Summary: A poem inspired by Remus Lupin PG because I felt like it
The Werewolf
The sun sets slowly over the peaks of a mountain
A waterfall is silenced to the drip of a fountain
Darkness consumes everything in sight
The day has given way to another night
When all seems quiet, the sun's setting diminished
A thought whispers that nights not nearly finished
A small hint of light peeks over the hill
Then suddenly the flood of a full moon begins to spill
Diurnal life is hidden away
Yet nocturnal creatures come out to play
Though human at first, a transformation begins
From hands to paws, to fur from skins
A demon of myths, a bringer of childhood tears
The werewolf creeps in to replenish your fears
Through the soul of a man comes a beast of great might
When all are asleep, he alone walks the night
To live in the shadows, to creep down the street
A conscience, a soul, and a mind that's complete
Somewhere under the monster, these things are all hidden
For a werewolf to feel, it is strictly forbidden
Instead he lives on, broken, to cower
Drowned by a force that's out of his power
The kill is not the fault of the man, but the beast
On this tortured soul, the creature can feast
Soon dawn rears its head to frighten the creature
The wolf is lost to a humanly feature
A man awakes from a night of great pain
With visions that make his mind feel insane
The town hunts a wolf, silver bullets in hand
A search, quite simple, is all they had planned
Morning, afternoon, and dusk fly by
The night sets in as the sun says goodbye
"The search was unsuccessful," one man pointed out
"Maybe the wolf is gone," anther dared to shout
In the head of a man, the secret was thought
Why the wolf was not found, since only beasts were sought
As the moon appeared, he hurried home fast
His human form was not sure to last
He found a cage, and locked himself up tight
Making sure he could not ever roam again in the night.
Each full moon night in that cage he would spend
A tortured soul without a friend
He continued to live his life as a lie
A werewolf, a man to frightened to cry