soulofmind replied: "PLEASE POST IT HARRY POTTER STUFF IS MY LIFE OMG"
you’re lucky I love ya, man
LONG, OLD POETRY AHEAD: BEWARE
A stone of crimson lay dormant for years.
The man who had brought it unto this world was as brilliant as the shine of light against his greatest, and most powerful creation.
Unknowingly, the same man had a supporting role in a train of events that would eventually lead to the damnation of a young boy.
"The survivor with the scar"
A child- so young, so pure -had witnessed his own mother fall before him by the blood-stained hands of a serpentine man.
Though the child was brave and kind, he was initially rejected by not only his own family, but by his fellow wand-welders; some of which would easily jump at the chance to dance on his grave in the name of their "lord".
Years passed, and they almost had that opportunity.
"Tremble in the name of the Dark Arts!"
The boy- by then a young man- was carried limp and lifeless to greet his school mates, his friends, his love, his teachers; his brothers in arms.
He heard their choked sobs, their gasps of terror.
But things had not always been so grim for the boy. There was a time when he would run and play with his friends; when he would learn to realize that he wasn’t as much of a failure as his family had put him down to be.
Normal? Maybe not for others, but between learning how to live in a whole new society and being almost killed a number of times, it was as normal as things could get.