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Shin Aug 2019
There remains a taste of lily on my lips,
as my thoughts grow into a mundane gray.
The Lords of dark and light intertwine
pulling my soul's string, but the dull ache remains.

Sectumsempra's slice can release the devil's grip.
As blood pools at my feet I feel it all fade away.
Finally, this moment I control, it is solely mine.
Alas, I shake myself awake, and return to the pain.
A thought of Harry Potter
Chandan Shersia Oct 2018
We met years ago, I remember it well.
The past is past, we musn’t dwell.
As soon as i met you, I instantly fell.
After all this time, I remember it well.

Your eyes sparkle just like then,
When we used to be the best of friends.
You were a Gryffindore, I was a Slytherine,
We drifted apart, it was a matter of time.

I couldn’t save you from a terrible fate,
I hate myself every minute for that day.
Death leaves a heartache no one can heal,
Love leaves a memory no one can steal!

I am a huge potterhead. And i wrote this poem because of Snape’s unconditional love for Lily.
Blind Distance Aug 2015
You could see the light growing bigger and brighter
when I broke down on all what had been lost on a whim
To sentiments tainted by a vigorous crimson
Blood-shaded hatred directed at no one in particular
But there had been moments of wonder exclusive to us
Crawling inside me like the veins in my vessel
You are my only shelter, grand savior in hell
I traded my soul just to ease all this pain
Of driving your caress and friendship away
Escape to be found where you cannot follow
Contaminated with devils, mockingly teasing
Contemplating whether death will be soothing or bleeding
fear it or not, for it will bring peace upon me
and I’ll gladly follow down the emerald path
Hoping to receive mercy at the almighty crossroad
Facing none other than Her, I’ll stand naked in front of
The indestructible, curious spirit of the auburn-haired Lovegod.
inspired by reading the harry potter books again
Jodie LindaMae Jun 2017
It's with a ringing in my ears and hands
That I write to you today.
Underneath my fingernails
Are bits of plague and dirt,
Memories of memories lost
Or discarded.

I carry you in my heart, Severus,
That which beats not for my own needs;
Only for the tasks which I have been handed
By others.
Between the fists and insults
Thrown on Saturday nights
And the ****** ***** I've often found
In my bed on Sunday mornings,
I've found it easier to be alone.

I know what your father did to you,
A young man on the cusp of greatness
Pushed too far and spread
Too thin, crumbling your soul to entrails
Before it could be nurtured to greatness.

When I was seventeen
And told my father I wanted to die,
He told me he would buy a gun
To aid me in finishing the job.
I decided to live to spite him.
When you expressed
The same guteral need to your superior,
He told you that you would be of no use
It is fortunate and, perhaps,
Unfortunate that we both listened,
Disgusted as we were.

I wear you on my skin, Severus,
The effigy of thin arms,
Circled around knees,
A fetal position in the corner, no,
The womb of the house,
A reminder that it isn't where we come from
That dictates where we are going.

Your mistakes are mine,
Though I have reason to believe
That the death toll is a bit higher
For you.
There was only one man
Whom I could not save.
But his face blurs the edges of every happiness
I have ever felt.

Do you have nightmares, Severus?
Often I find myself adrift
In a sea of longing,
Anxious to make a connection
Though the dream always ends in me drowning,
Pulling my arms back below the current
Before someone sees me.

I know that you know
The feeling, Severus.
I know that sometimes your cravat feels like a noose,
The buttons on your coat a straight jacket.
How long have you been imprisoned by yourself?
How long has guilt gripped you,
Curled its fingers around your ankles
In the night?
Is the lesson you teach one of redemption
Or one of warning?

The blood in my veins aches for men like you,
A generation of people
Brought to their knees
By ****** parenting
And even ******* decisions.
A generation of men raised by women,
A generation of unfulfilled dreams
And ambitions.

How old were you
When you gave up, Sir?
What was the defining
Moment in your life
That made you stand, shreik, and
Bemoan your life?
Has anyone ever judged you
As harshly as your judge yourself?

It is frightening to me
That when you died,
Only a bit older than I,
You had only a single vial of yourself
To give away.
A life of thirty eight years,
Compacted and compartmentalized
To the point of nonexistence.
Dear God,
Don't let me disappear
As you've often let your best men do.
A year ago I started writing open letter poems to the fictional characters I felt strong connections to in order to better understand those feelings. This is the first poem in that series.
Jodie LindaMae Jan 2017
Like Severus and Lily,
We came to each other by chance.
I transfigured myself into your life
Already on a pedestal,
Our words chaining ourselves
To each other
Until death.

Years have passed
Without so much as a flicker between us
But here you stand
With the words of our pasts
Strung together and hanging like frayed ropes from your wrists.

In my dreams you come to me
With your hand outstretched,
A snake burrowed into the cuff
Of your long sleeved,
Blue-collar work shirt.
I do not hesitate to take it.
I am bitten.

I wake up in a cold sweat,
The snake of men past
Now burrowed next to me
In the king sized bed.
I am not afraid
But I do not trust.
lillie Jan 2016
you loved and destroyed me
*but came back with tragedy

Dedicated to my character's actor--Severus Snape.
(Rest in peace, Alan Rickman. You will be remembered.)
writerReader Jan 2015
there was an old man
he wore a billowing cape
ebony his eyes
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