A/N: Hi there, hope you enjoy the poem, it's a bit... dark, but then again it is Snape. Reviews and comments are appreciated.
J.K. Rowling owns everything.
A Ghost Story
It's become a nightly ritual,
To watch as this candle burns and dies.
This time it happens so suddenly,
I recoil when the black meets my eyes…
So I hide my dreams and fearful things,
For who knows what the darkness brings
I take a breath of darkness,
Shut my eyes and count to ten.
I wait for the hollow shadows,
To reveal themselves once again.
These shadows appear randomly,
Giving a smirk, or glowing stare.
They gather smugly, knowing my fear;
As they encircle me and my chair.
Shut my eyes, close them tight,
Shield me from this ghastly fright.
I push the fear and doubt away,
Gripping firmly on my armchair.
Forcing thoughts of normality,
To make ghosts vanish into air.
I'm hiding my dreams and fearful things,
For who knows what the darkness brings.
Open my eyes, and close my mind -
No thought of it, and no ghost seen.
But, the temptress of forbidden,
Casts me back to my thought machine.
The guilt and fear come rushing in,
White features stare; in mute absence.
Fingers point to my trembling hands,
Whose palms sketch the word, innocence.
You'll find none, I've already tried,
It's been gone since the good man died.
So I crush the words with a fist,
Search my robes for a dream slayer.
I'm trembling for the end of this trance -
As I light a match and say a prayer.
Have you ever heard a ghost story?
Marked with lost memories of glory.
Or seen the fawn murder the buck?
I have - and seen the dire havoc,
Of living in my own ghost story.