Where the streets have no names
Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Where the Streets Have No Names
Author: xalways_lovex
Summary: Ginny recollects her memories of Draco, of her love for him and his death, and of her loneliness and desperation... (poem)
Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishing companies and Warner Bros.
It is cold outside
the wind tenderly caresses
black curtains with it's icy hands.
I have laid here for so many days
in the dark, cold and forlorn,
my skin a bluish tinge
and pale like white petals,
dreaming of you.
Your ice, your touch,
your pale lips grazing mine.
A shudder runs through me
when I think of you,
remembering your death.
You died in my hands,
died because of
your duties to the Dark Lord.
Your hair grazed your brow
as my tears spilled down
your face.
When the war ended
I had died inside,
died inside with you.
My heart stolen, broken, and torn.
I had loved you
loved you so deeply and truly
that our fire and ice melded
into one being.
And now I lay here in the night
in the desolation of our home,
the torn curtain flailing
and the broken shutters opening
and closing,
dreaming of you.
When the early morning
comes in the twilight,
when the world is still asleep,
I will creep,
my lilac gown brushing the floor,
and I will wander
where the streets have no names
and sink down to my knees
by the scattered dead flowers
and the freshly dug graves.
And the sun's pale rays
will touch my face and
I will know,
I will know,
I will know,
that I can live
and move on
without you...
Title: Where the Streets Have No Names
Author: xalways_lovex
Summary: Ginny recollects her memories of Draco, of her love for him and his death, and of her loneliness and desperation... (poem)
Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishing companies and Warner Bros.
It is cold outside
the wind tenderly caresses
black curtains with it's icy hands.
I have laid here for so many days
in the dark, cold and forlorn,
my skin a bluish tinge
and pale like white petals,
dreaming of you.
Your ice, your touch,
your pale lips grazing mine.
A shudder runs through me
when I think of you,
remembering your death.
You died in my hands,
died because of
your duties to the Dark Lord.
Your hair grazed your brow
as my tears spilled down
your face.
When the war ended
I had died inside,
died inside with you.
My heart stolen, broken, and torn.
I had loved you
loved you so deeply and truly
that our fire and ice melded
into one being.
And now I lay here in the night
in the desolation of our home,
the torn curtain flailing
and the broken shutters opening
and closing,
dreaming of you.
When the early morning
comes in the twilight,
when the world is still asleep,
I will creep,
my lilac gown brushing the floor,
and I will wander
where the streets have no names
and sink down to my knees
by the scattered dead flowers
and the freshly dug graves.
And the sun's pale rays
will touch my face and
I will know,
I will know,
I will know,
that I can live
and move on
without you...