To the honored
descendant of the house of Black,
Although blasphemous to your
heritage,
We bid you the greetings of the Dark Arts.
Snuffles by
day, Black by night
They say he has gone, lost the fight
Killed
by blood, mourned by love
But still remains those who can't
believe
That Black has gone to the great above
Have we lost
what we treasure?
Have we missed love's true measure?
Are we
Sirius about what's happened?
Does Miss Rowling need to be
straightened?
Star of night,
doggedly hidden
Was it protection or was it unbidden
Was the
master Albus truly afraid
Of what would happen if he strayed?
Are these
questions to be answered?
I have sworn until these streets run
red
Black was beautiful, and cannot be dead.
From the
most humble servant of Lord Voldemort, Master of the Dark
Arts,
Alexia ManDraGora