MOONLIGHT SONATA . . . regulus black

𝖝𝖝𝖛. god please not her

i wanted to yell so hard that tom riddle's
eardrums would explode into a hot,
void coloured liquid running down
the side of his disfigured face.

i wanted to shove his wand down his throat,
let the pomegranate red sparks ignite
out of it's tip,
give him a taste of his beloved
iridescent craniums the colour of pine trees
crimson serpents coiling and slithering
like violent hurricanes and bullets of steel.

you were standing in front of the death eaters,
a mask of stone placed carefully on your face.

i pleaded in my mind,
i prayed,
i begged.

god, please, not her.

but your screams were deafening
and your cries muted mine
prayers forgotten,
chants crumbled.

on your forearm was now imprinted a
grotesque snake coiling around a human skull.