Author: FragrantPowders
Beta: None, but I don't think there are many mistakes in this piece.
Pairing: Pansy/Luna
Rating: M/R
Warnings: Suffocation, Character death
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns it all. I make no profit. Don't sue.
Author's Notes: Poem written for my dearest friend K. Written deliberately without any use of capitals, so please don't comment on it to tell me, I amalready aware if it (but you are more than welcome to tell me if it works for you or not). Dark themes, dark times. Darkness ahoy.
Breathtaking Beauty
the shadows dance their nightly dances
darkness blending easily with white
and grey is all that matters
in these times of war
neutral and colourless are safe
because both red and green kill
pansy can feel the moon goddess so close
blinking down to her through dirty windows
but the familiar silver light
does not lull her to sleep
voices still reach her through the door,
the border of their new war-divided reality
the door which has been closed for seven days
they have not really eaten
neither have they drunk
anything but a few dewdrops from the dripping taps
they have not slept
the screams of the children outside of this bathroom
– their sanctuary, keeping them hidden from death –
haunting them in their sleep, in their dreams
maybe it is just a nightmare, luna said once
on the first day where god created the night
maybe it is even just a dream
luna never stopped dreaming
she seems to be living in a daze
her mumbling is nothing but broken sentences
fairy tales which should be told to the morning sun
not now, like this to faces grimy and grave
from a life among the dying
the death eaters have taken over the school (the world)
pansy can hear their footsteps
echoing throughout the hallways
their curses hit the door
more than once during the day
(is it daylight, she is not sure how
light is supposed to look anymore)
and at night the cries of the people not yet dead
or gone or choking
on mourning pleas
rise above the silence
like a phoenix from ashes
(these ashes will never again
be a shining new world
that chance is lost
in the blood of the mice
luna hunted down and tried to eat
- she is so hungry)
however, this one night will be different
pansy is sure of it as someone knocks on the door
she thought they had been abandoned
or maybe they had chosen to live
in asylum among the empty stalls
and the whispers of the long gone ghosts
i know you are in there, says the voice
and pansy knows that voice by heart
luna starts babbling again
of forests made of diamond
fairies drinking flower wine
unicorns afraid of those who have seen death
thestrals eating whatever is left on the battle field
panic surges through her
and pansy forgets her starving stomach
she forgets her dry throat and hoarse voice
draco is here though he is supposed to be dead
draco is here though he is supposed to be gone
she holds her tongue
silence is golden
silence is golden
but luna refuses to be quiet
refuses to fall silent in front of danger
she unthinkingly speaks her delirious mind
her crazy, crazy mind with all her weird fantasies
no, pansy never believed in angels
draco is the devil in disguise
no angelic features can change that
so she presses both her hands over luna's mouth
be quiet, be silent or you shall never speak again
luna's eyes are huge full moons in the shadows
her gaze not focused though directed at pansy
but it does not stop her talking
pansy's hands cannot silence her
scattered dreams
broken world
in black and white
pansy hushes her up
like she would her neverborn child
crying from hunger and madness
bathed in blood
bathed in sadness
draco whispers to her
through the door to her nest
speaks words of comforting lies
that he will be her saviour and make sure
she endures no harm, give her the freeing mask to wear
draco has a snake's split tongue
painting dreams on the canvas of her heart
she wants to awake luna from her dreamland
caused by starvation and stale water
(would death let her stay there forever
does pansy even have the right to take that away)
shut up, little girl, she hisses
shut up if you wish to live
luna does not
if it is deliberate
pansy does not know
maybe she does not want
to live in a never ending nightmare
when she could be dead in an everlasting dream
so pansy tucks her blouse over her head clumsily
with hands for days unused
the silk is soft, safe and sound
like her mother's bosom
she presses it against luna's face
muffling her rambling of wonder worlds
for her own sake
so draco will not hear her
and break in to take that dream away
that beautiful imaginary picture
that does not exist
but should
exist
luna twists slightly
a child disturbed in sleep
her hands grasp at pansy's shoulders
for support and for comfort and for dear life
her legs kick and it reminds pansy of the unicorn foal
her father bought her when she was a princess
their family estate her castle
that foal kicked in its sleep
when it had pleasant dreams
it is running over the prairies
said her mother when she told pansy
not to wake it up
let it dream
luna must be dreaming too
but she has to dream in silence
so pansy waits for the kicking to stop
for luna to float peacefully down the black river styx
running through the valleys of (not death but) dreams
soon she is still
and silent
asleep
now pansy's own breathing
is the only thing that can tell on them
so she holds it, she stills it
for a minute
forever
draco has stopped calling her
he has left her alone in the dark
she lets the shirt drop to the ground
the last leaf falling from a naked branch
and she shivers from the cold
winter grey, winter dead
uncaring of how the shadows will watch her
naked breasts the only thing shielding her heart
she takes a deep breath, looking into luna's wide open eyes
searching for promises of a slumber world and traces of dreamlike freedom
she sees nothing
the last lights are gone
breathe, she mumbles to herself
and to luna who will not wake up
breathe, just breathe, just breathe
breathe
but luna's chest does not rise
nor does it fall
luna's dreams do not end
nor do they include pansy any longer
pansy does not understand
she just wanted luna to be quiet
to stop talking about a world that would never come
when the enemy was right outside and could easily take even the fragile hope away
she looks out the window again
realising the moon is gone
hidden behind clouds
uncoloured
she wonders if the world
is any better on the other side of the mist
if the sky really is clear blue on the other side
of the threatening, dark and suffocating clouds
pansy touches luna (who is only asleep
caught in a dream that will last eternally) hesitantly
she is still warm like one who has slept under thick covers
pansy clings to the non responsive body
hugging it close to her chest
envying its warmth
she is so cold
the door opens then
and pansy welcomes what
she thinks is the angel of death
clad in his dark robes and skeleton mask
instead she faces
the angel of mercy
a flash of pure heated red
and brown coals in the eyes of a girl
she recognises the woman
from a picture in her mind (a snapshot
of a life that once was) but back then she was
nothing but a baby just like the rest of them
it takes a war to grow up
grow old and
die
the brown eyes survey the bathroom
the air sour, the people dead
and she screams hoarsely
like god would scream
banshee-like
pansy does not hear the words
(not because they matter) but the bright
green light mesmerizes her like a shooting star
and when she falls
she falls into that wonderland
floating down the invisible river styx
running through the valley of dreamy death
and luna is right there beside her
breathing
in the end green killed life
and red killed green
all that remains
is a colourless
dream
the shadows dance their nightly dances
darkness blending easily with white
and grey is all that matters
in these times of war
neutral and colourless are safe
because both red and green kill
pansy can feel the moon goddess so close
blinking down to her through dirty windows
but the familiar silver light
does not lull her to sleep
voices still reach her through the door,
the border of their new war-divided reality
the door which has been closed for seven days
they have not really eaten
neither have they drunk
anything but a few dewdrops from the dripping taps
they have not slept
the screams of the children outside of this bathroom
– their sanctuary, keeping them hidden from death –
haunting them in their sleep, in their dreams
maybe it is just a nightmare, luna said once
on the first day where god created the night
maybe it is even just a dream
luna never stopped dreaming
she seems to be living in a daze
her mumbling is nothing but broken sentences
fairy tales which should be told to the morning sun
not now, like this to faces grimy and grave
from a life among the dying
the death eaters have taken over the school (the world)
pansy can hear their footsteps
echoing throughout the hallways
their curses hit the door
more than once during the day
(is it daylight, she is not sure how
light is supposed to look anymore)
and at night the cries of the people not yet dead
or gone or choking
on mourning pleas
rise above the silence
like a phoenix from ashes
(these ashes will never again
be a shining new world
that chance is lost
in the blood of the mice
luna hunted down and tried to eat
- she is so hungry)
however, this one night will be different
pansy is sure of it as someone knocks on the door
she thought they had been abandoned
or maybe they had chosen to live
in asylum among the empty stalls
and the whispers of the long gone ghosts
i know you are in there, says the voice
and pansy knows that voice by heart
luna starts babbling again
of forests made of diamond
fairies drinking flower wine
unicorns afraid of those who have seen death
thestrals eating whatever is left on the battle field
panic surges through her
and pansy forgets her starving stomach
she forgets her dry throat and hoarse voice
draco is here though he is supposed to be dead
draco is here though he is supposed to be gone
she holds her tongue
silence is golden
silence is golden
but luna refuses to be quiet
refuses to fall silent in front of danger
she unthinkingly speaks her delirious mind
her crazy, crazy mind with all her weird fantasies
no, pansy never believed in angels
draco is the devil in disguise
no angelic features can change that
so she presses both her hands over luna's mouth
be quiet, be silent or you shall never speak again
luna's eyes are huge full moons in the shadows
her gaze not focused though directed at pansy
but it does not stop her talking
pansy's hands cannot silence her
scattered dreams
broken world
in black and white
pansy hushes her up
like she would her neverborn child
crying from hunger and madness
bathed in blood
bathed in sadness
draco whispers to her
through the door to her nest
speaks words of comforting lies
that he will be her saviour and make sure
she endures no harm, give her the freeing mask to wear
draco has a snake's split tongue
painting dreams on the canvas of her heart
she wants to awake luna from her dreamland
caused by starvation and stale water
(would death let her stay there forever
does pansy even have the right to take that away)
shut up, little girl, she hisses
shut up if you wish to live
luna does not
if it is deliberate
pansy does not know
maybe she does not want
to live in a never ending nightmare
when she could be dead in an everlasting dream
so pansy tucks her blouse over her head clumsily
with hands for days unused
the silk is soft, safe and sound
like her mother's bosom
she presses it against luna's face
muffling her rambling of wonder worlds
for her own sake
so draco will not hear her
and break in to take that dream away
that beautiful imaginary picture
that does not exist
but should
exist
luna twists slightly
a child disturbed in sleep
her hands grasp at pansy's shoulders
for support and for comfort and for dear life
her legs kick and it reminds pansy of the unicorn foal
her father bought her when she was a princess
their family estate her castle
that foal kicked in its sleep
when it had pleasant dreams
it is running over the prairies
said her mother when she told pansy
not to wake it up
let it dream
luna must be dreaming too
but she has to dream in silence
so pansy waits for the kicking to stop
for luna to float peacefully down the black river styx
running through the valleys of (not death but) dreams
soon she is still
and silent
asleep
now pansy's own breathing
is the only thing that can tell on them
so she holds it, she stills it
for a minute
forever
draco has stopped calling her
he has left her alone in the dark
she lets the shirt drop to the ground
the last leaf falling from a naked branch
and she shivers from the cold
winter grey, winter dead
uncaring of how the shadows will watch her
naked breasts the only thing shielding her heart
she takes a deep breath, looking into luna's wide open eyes
searching for promises of a slumber world and traces of dreamlike freedom
she sees nothing
the last lights are gone
breathe, she mumbles to herself
and to luna who will not wake up
breathe, just breathe, just breathe
breathe
but luna's chest does not rise
nor does it fall
luna's dreams do not end
nor do they include pansy any longer
pansy does not understand
she just wanted luna to be quiet
to stop talking about a world that would never come
when the enemy was right outside and could easily take even the fragile hope away
she looks out the window again
realising the moon is gone
hidden behind clouds
uncoloured
she wonders if the world
is any better on the other side of the mist
if the sky really is clear blue on the other side
of the threatening, dark and suffocating clouds
pansy touches luna (who is only asleep
caught in a dream that will last eternally) hesitantly
she is still warm like one who has slept under thick covers
pansy clings to the non responsive body
hugging it close to her chest
envying its warmth
she is so cold
the door opens then
and pansy welcomes what
she thinks is the angel of death
clad in his dark robes and skeleton mask
instead she faces
the angel of mercy
a flash of pure heated red
and brown coals in the eyes of a girl
she recognises the woman
from a picture in her mind (a snapshot
of a life that once was) but back then she was
nothing but a baby just like the rest of them
it takes a war to grow up
grow old and
die
the brown eyes survey the bathroom
the air sour, the people dead
and she screams hoarsely
like god would scream
banshee-like
pansy does not hear the words
(not because they matter) but the bright
green light mesmerizes her like a shooting star
and when she falls
she falls into that wonderland
floating down the invisible river styx
running through the valley of dreamy death
and luna is right there beside her
breathing
in the end green killed life
and red killed green
all that remains
is a colourless
dream
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