A lot has changed; a decade has come and gone.
Now, I crave to recall the memories,
the impressions, the carvings, the bonds,
of which I was so fond.

No colour, no sight,
can flood my dull, dreary memories.
No Harry, no Ron
can bring me my dawn.

A smiling exterior
wraps itself around me
When friends come to visit;
but now I am happy.

One thing I miss a lot
is my lifeless, soulful friend:
my faithful, loving companion
on whom I can depend.

I miss the yellowing pages;
I can feel the crumbling leaves.
I miss the loud, clear letters;
I can almost hear their voices.

Groping, feeling, touching,
I speak lovingly to my friend.
Alas, it cannot reply to me;
my questions are unanswered.

I yearn for the lessons
my friend patiently taught me.
But they’re now just chapters
in my colourless memory.

Sometimes, I wake with a start,
with a rapidly beating heart.
I feel my way to my dark, dusty desk
as though reaching for my bosom friend.

I hear echoes;
it seems like my friend is screaming
From a deep, black, never-ending abyss -
just crying for my help.

I’m so near, yet so far
from pulling my friend up.
Silent tears pour down my cheeks;
I’m almost screaming, too.

Oh, so near, yet so far;
My fingernails scrabble at the glossy cover –
it’s like finding a rope to climb up
but never, ever reaching the top.

I press my friend to my heart,
my wildly beating heart.
I can feel it; it can’t feel me;
but now I am happy.