Will you know it's from me?
Or would you think it was a joke
And throw it back to the sea
It's night... you're probably sleeping now... So I can think safely. I have hidden fears of divination on nights - clear, bright ones - such as these. I'm missing you, but you don't know. If I told you, would you think of me? No? Of Ron, of Harry, I suppose. Then you would laugh about thier elaborate joke... a note in a glass bottle, magically floating to you at the seashore.
Know everything I'm feeling
Do you know
No one could love you more...
I've never loved before, even in this halfway state of yearning. I'm not who you think would be affected by an appalingly schoolboy crush. You don't know of this. It is better this way, no rejection, and yet worse when I try to see the thin chance of you feeling the same. Your friends are just friends, and though they are steadfast you have no suitor. No one could love you more than me, I'm beginning to believe...
Will you please forgive me...
It's too late for 'sorry'
No matter what the world might say I do not think of myself as an all-powerful being, but quite the opposite. The only way I could find of bettering myself (and that is what we humans were put on Earth to do, is it not, to better ourselves?) was to take my strength in shadow. It's far too late for apology now, and still I try, like Lady MacBeth trying to wash bloodstained hands. It's a cold night and I have my silent mantra. I'm sorry, father, I'm sorry, Myrtle... I'm sorry, Cedric. Forgive me. Forgive me please. Each name stings. No matter what the world might say I have too many regrets.
Know everything I'm feeling
Do you know
No one could love you more
Do you know that every night someone dreams momentarily about you? It's me, but then the life I rashly gave myself comes demanding my time. I am a Romeo with an unknowing Juliet, and I am too shy to let her know. Yes, shy... it seems oxymoronic, doesn't it? I've built walls around my fear, my hate, my ambition, but not my love. Love is my greatest fear. Everyone I have loved has been taken away - killed, fallen in love with another, and in the worse I have been rejected.
It's a faerie tale that your parents must have told you. I am the Beast, sitting high and lonely in his castle-towers as my life ebbs through my fingers. Will you come pick a forbidden rose, Beauty, and give me my chance?
Know everything I'm feeling
Do you know
No one could love you more...
If you only knew what I was thinking. If you only knew what I would do just for a smile. If you asked I would give up my empire. If you asked I would forgive Harry. If you asked I would take a knife and stab myself in the heart, as long as you would say you loved me just before I died... If you... If...
Now you don't have to ask. I can't live the life I was living. They saw me weeping and stargasing and they saw my lips form the words of my plead for forgiveness. I went of my own accord. A leader is always aware of the mood of those under him. Whatever trust they had was gone. With good reason...
Never felt so alone
And you are happily oblivious to what I've done, until whenever The Daily Prophet picks up the story, and even then you will not know it was for you.
Do you always not know what people sacrifice for you, Hermione?
It's another clear night and I'm dreaming of you anyway...
This is the first time I've written Romance. Seriously. I hope I've come pretty close on the mark, and someone that knows box my ears if I haven't, okiedokie? I think it's pretty good for a 12-year-old, tho'. :)
This is only the second time I've done Voldemort first-person, and I've portrayed him (in both, actually) as an eloquent, almost dreamy individual with a dash (or more than a dash as is here) of angst.