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.