DARK WOES OF RECOLLECTION
~______________________~
What ails the gaunt and ashen face,
That haunts this stone-walled, lonely place?
He shelters in his dungeon quarters
Inside his mind and body's fortress
To keep at bay the things that stalk
In dreams, behind him, as he walks
Through halls that ring with echoes
Of past deeds and present fears
Far too strong to cry the tears
That plague him to be shed
Yet still too weak to cast out fears
That seldom leave his head
For his mind still conjures eerie threats
In suspicious sounds that fear begets
Just a rustle, wave of black silk curtain
Will serve to stir his private burden
Wary of each nocturne sound
That gives cause for troubled heart to pound
And the sweat and rapid breathing
That ensue in unrest's wake
He grants himself no mercy
He holds self-judgement safe
And has deemed himself unworthy
Of a friendship's mutual faith
Unfounded inklings of mistrust
Make him sure that pity must
Be all that lies in friendly gestures
Though his loneliness still festers
And he cannot make himself believe
That false friendship would his sins relieve
So he makes a quiet, quick retreat
From what he thinks is undeserved
He meets, with glares to warn designed
What kindly glances pass his way
Their faces only bring to mind
Those of friends he once betrayed
And as he makes his swift rejection
With pride he covers his dejection
For despite the haughty, snide remarks
And the seemed disdain for laugh and larks
With all his saddened heart and soul
He longs to grasp their offers whole
To befriend those few around him
Who would willingly surround him
With the comfort and the solace
That he won't believe exist
For he wrongly thinks it only pity
In the eyes of proffered friends
The sincerity escapes him
Of the alliance they intend
What looms in mind and dire musing
To cause such deep and unseen bruising?
On the blackened heart of one so battered
A weary conscience all but shattered
In a soul now cloaked in malice
And his mind a poison chalice
From which he cannot cease his drinking,
But has not the strength to cork
Dark woes of recollection
That lie haunting 'neath the mask
Assure each night's new resurrection
Spectres of his sinful past
Youthful not, and yet too young
For the weight that round his neck is slung
His face, more than it should, looks old
And seems to hide, beneath it's cold
Something colleagues, students can't discern
But beyond his spiteful air it burns
A flame of guilt and penitence
That smoulders quietly on
For his manner hides his sorrow
And what they cannot place is fear
And eyes that some think hollow
Hold dark secrets they'll not hear
Night-time floods of grim remainders
Force him from his dim-lit chambers
And so the empty halls he creeps
He paces rooms and rarely sleeps,
For fear his soul, in sleep, a martyr
To the nightmares of the Potions Master
~______________________________~
A/N - If you liked this, you might enjoy a poem I wrote about Remus called 'Lunar Eclipse'. Thank you, and don't forget to review!
~______________________~
What ails the gaunt and ashen face,
That haunts this stone-walled, lonely place?
He shelters in his dungeon quarters
Inside his mind and body's fortress
To keep at bay the things that stalk
In dreams, behind him, as he walks
Through halls that ring with echoes
Of past deeds and present fears
Far too strong to cry the tears
That plague him to be shed
Yet still too weak to cast out fears
That seldom leave his head
For his mind still conjures eerie threats
In suspicious sounds that fear begets
Just a rustle, wave of black silk curtain
Will serve to stir his private burden
Wary of each nocturne sound
That gives cause for troubled heart to pound
And the sweat and rapid breathing
That ensue in unrest's wake
He grants himself no mercy
He holds self-judgement safe
And has deemed himself unworthy
Of a friendship's mutual faith
Unfounded inklings of mistrust
Make him sure that pity must
Be all that lies in friendly gestures
Though his loneliness still festers
And he cannot make himself believe
That false friendship would his sins relieve
So he makes a quiet, quick retreat
From what he thinks is undeserved
He meets, with glares to warn designed
What kindly glances pass his way
Their faces only bring to mind
Those of friends he once betrayed
And as he makes his swift rejection
With pride he covers his dejection
For despite the haughty, snide remarks
And the seemed disdain for laugh and larks
With all his saddened heart and soul
He longs to grasp their offers whole
To befriend those few around him
Who would willingly surround him
With the comfort and the solace
That he won't believe exist
For he wrongly thinks it only pity
In the eyes of proffered friends
The sincerity escapes him
Of the alliance they intend
What looms in mind and dire musing
To cause such deep and unseen bruising?
On the blackened heart of one so battered
A weary conscience all but shattered
In a soul now cloaked in malice
And his mind a poison chalice
From which he cannot cease his drinking,
But has not the strength to cork
Dark woes of recollection
That lie haunting 'neath the mask
Assure each night's new resurrection
Spectres of his sinful past
Youthful not, and yet too young
For the weight that round his neck is slung
His face, more than it should, looks old
And seems to hide, beneath it's cold
Something colleagues, students can't discern
But beyond his spiteful air it burns
A flame of guilt and penitence
That smoulders quietly on
For his manner hides his sorrow
And what they cannot place is fear
And eyes that some think hollow
Hold dark secrets they'll not hear
Night-time floods of grim remainders
Force him from his dim-lit chambers
And so the empty halls he creeps
He paces rooms and rarely sleeps,
For fear his soul, in sleep, a martyr
To the nightmares of the Potions Master
~______________________________~
A/N - If you liked this, you might enjoy a poem I wrote about Remus called 'Lunar Eclipse'. Thank you, and don't forget to review!