I am not but half

Of what I once was—

Half of my memory,

Half of my destiny.

An abandoned shadow—

I am the day’s wanderer

And the night’s warrior,

Roaming the darkness that

Full moon could not reach.

I rush through the years,

Stepping over the remains

Of past’s creation,

Preparing to face future’s

Demons and searching

For a purpose—

My life’s explanation.

Battling through monsters—

A hero in my own field,

I let out my cry—

Nighttime’s sweet music,

And let out the

Pain, unexplainable agony—

Such fire burning

Where my heart should be.

My instincts take over—

I lose control.

My mind but a pool

Of tangled scenes—

Life so perplexing,

I let go of reality,

Sinking into the world’s

Forbidden places,

Where such blackness hides

My nightmare form.

Waiting, I linger about

‘Til night’s shade resides

And the warrior within

My weary body

Buries itself,

So the drifter takes control.

Unthinking, impassionate,

Skin drinking sun,

I return home

Where family awaits,

Fear and pity concealed

In pupils’ depths.

They fear,

But they lie.

We embrace, automatically,

Though just for a second.

A joke is shared,

Laughter strikes air,

But it is all habitual.

Days so regular, though

A warrior lurks within,

Waiting to transform me

With the full moon’s emergence.

I am not but half

Of what I once was—

Half of my memory,

Half of my destiny.

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In case you are confused, this is a poem about werewolves— specifically Remus Lupin. Thank you for reading and please leave a review to tell me what you think.