A/N: Sirius Black tells his story through an epistle poem. Brownie points if you can guess who it is he is writing to/about.
My dear friend,
I lie alone in this empty cell
Having nothing to do
But stare at the bland walls
And think.
My head aches with all
Of the thinking I have done.
Neither joyful, nor sorrowful these are.
It's the only thing that keeps me sane…
My heart is weighted
Like a heavy chain
Trying to tear me down;
Make me lose the will
To survive.
I won't give in,
Not yet,
When there is still hope.
My only wish, my friend
Is to run wild and free.
To be free from these chains
Of knowing I could have
Done something, anything.
Anything but been so stupid.
My wish
Is the same as yours.
I know they're alive.
I want to see them both,
But for very different reasons.
A single newspaper
Lifts these chains of mine.
I'm running,
Wild;
Not yet free.
A sort of burning anger
Keeps me going.
A need to avenge my friends.
Perhaps I'll see you there;
Chance being, I will.
Moon and star
Belong in the same sky.
The shackles will bind me
No longer.
Not matter how long it takes,
Or where it will bring me,
I will be free.
Someday, you will also be.
This I promise you.