Author's Note: I am not a poet by any means, but this would not leave me alone. The subject of this is our dear Professor Snape. It is up to interpretation, though I definitely had certain things in mind when I wrote it. I am interested to see what you think, though I doubt poems ever get many reviews ^_~.

By Amanda Swiftgold

He walks with darkness; he can do no other.
To laugh is to betray the memory of a hundred screaming voices.
Life is a punishment, the world the cell.
They who should seek to touch the soul are bitten back in desperation.
A thousand photo memories flit like razors through the sky.
The crying child puts the watch up on the table; it ticks like thunderclaps.
Hate, shining brightly, stands alone.
Even the deepest depth has an ocean's bottom.
The serpent laughed before it bent to kiss.
Green eyes and fingernails that tore.
The apple was bitten.
Night fell.

Do you hear the whisper in the silence, the one that tears into your ears?
Do you smell the fear upon you, the foul reek of capitulation?
Do you feel the burn upon you, all-consuming, everlasting?
Do you taste that blood upon you, trickling wetly past your lips?
Do you see with dead-cold eyes their twisted limbs and pain-torn faces?

Open wide. Take it inside. Become it. Want it. Need it. Take it. Take it.

Take it. It is yours.

It tears like the rain, like the rain O rip it open now-

I can hear the screams and they are mine and they are mine all mine they are mine-

But the hands they are like glass and sun it is shining beneath