Just a Life- a poem

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
What happens to the victims of the Wizarding world? Harry Potter related

Submitted: July 16, 2012

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Submitted: July 16, 2012



Just a Life

The day dawns bright and sunny
For care-free urchins of noble blood,
But thick fogs of utter abyss
Penetrate souls whose names are mud.
The searing flames of hell
Cause shadows of coal to roar dissent,
As subtle spells impress imminent death
Through their pale and poisonous scent.

Young innocence so soft in ignorance,
Shriek agony and distress to the deaf world.
Unfathomable the stench of fetid fear,
Who gores the fresh in heart ‘til all have curled
Into the deepest rut and still, its presence
Shocks involuntary shivers through the sludging mind,
And Life is cursed with vehement breath
Or else revered by those with spirits kind.

Infinitesimal comfort sought in crowds that number thousands,
For no matter if one is accompanied or dead alone...
Forsaken, abandoned by joy, hope, and love,
As doubt, desolation, and despair have gluttonously grown.

A family ripped unceremoniously apart,
Become just a registry in death eaters' blind eyes;
Pitched into cramped spaces and left to suffer-
The anguish of starvation, hatred, illness, and lies.
The burning of the salty tears who sledge down the feverish cheeks
As the looming blackness suffocates the high intelligence.
And through mine eyes, the darkened bricks do spin...
The air-oh its vile staleness!- provides the reeking retching recompense.

My body convulses from sheer lack of pleasure,
Contributing to the onset pour of stomach flu.
The twinkle of starry eyes long gone, except in cases of flushing with heat from the truth.
The mottled ground blanketing the dungeon serves for those who sleep;
Human horror tripled at the revulsion etched in Death Eaters' grim features
As we boldly declare our difference in the company we keep.
Diligently do we bear afflictions and burdens,
With hearts as pure as the ugly ducklings who became swans;
Trials make the heart grow stronger, weakness keeps us humble,
But deterioration sets in and its hope that it pawns...

Happiness is merely fabled now,
Though what are gloom and despair without having known joy?
Pushed past emotion, impassive faces blank-
Shows the extent our apathetic souls can employ.
But the nature of man is never satisfied:
With each passing day, his anger and fervor for bloodlust heightens,
And I can only promise myself emptily
That I'll survive in this vile, wretched den...
Dry mucus tastes sour in my mouth,
Tart like hot, musty blood;
I cower in the corners, knees to my chin for warmth,
And cry useless drops of watery mud.

The day dawns bright and sunny,
Eventually even for me-
And I run to live, to laugh, to love,
To set my dampened spirit free.
But victory is bittersweet, my eyes downcast to the ground,
As I am led over thousands of graves
Who long ago shrieked with agonizing sound.

I suffer Fear, who snickers at my defeat
And I can reach out to touch Death’s fiery door-
And though the boisterous wind cools my face,
Emotion can still be easily ignored.
An ache swells in my deadened heart;
Those years are gone, stolen, I can’t take them back.
My life fades fast, much quicker now that I’m free,
As I am left alone and my mind I do attack...

© Copyright 2017 Nagini Riddle. All rights reserved.

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