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.
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.