Monday, 1 July 2013

I Survived

I just watched all eight Harry Potter films in a day and I'm feeling nostalgic and all the deaths are welling up in my heart again. So I thought I would express my feelings from the viewpoint of Harry after the death of Dumbledore. Because something occured to me, which I hadn't thought much about before that Dumbledore's death hurt me so much because he was just there. Someone so old, who has seen so much of the world, who has experienced things that happened a century before Harry was born, becomes a constant. And for me, and Harry, someone so young, to survive when that constant has gone seems bizarre to me. The same way that the attack on Hogwart's is a violation of innocence, somewhere that is always supposed to be safe is safe no longer, someone who is always supposed to be there is there no longer and it's weird and terrible and eventually accepted as obvious. Of course the young outlive the old, that's how things work. But it also seems a little strange at first and I tried to express all this in a poem. I hope you enjoy.

I Survived

Today I grieve an old friend
He was wise and comforting and he fell from a tower and died
But I survived.

I don’t understand.
He was a constant in my life.
He exists, always and absolute.
I thought my life would pass in a blink of an eye and he’d still be there
But now he is not, and I, so young, go on without him.
For I survived.

I feel violated.
This is wrong.
This isn’t meant to be.
He’s lived and laughed and loved and now
The light reflects from empty eyes, and a withered hand and spread-eagled limbs
Picked out from the shadows.
And I survived.

Mourning is an expression of betrayal.
I felt safe, and at home and I cradled him in my heart.
But then death reached in and snatched him away with fumbling fingers.
Not caring that my heart was bruised and my home was gone and I do not feel safe anymore.
And I don’t know why
Someone so small, when he towered so tall

He was kind.
And I learnt he was foolish and selfish and sorry
And it made me distraught but also a little better
To know that he was more like me.
And I miss him.
But he accepted his fate and left on his own terms and greeted death like an old friend.
To go on, to him, is a great adventure.
And how happy he would be, how glad he is to know, despite how sad that he had to go

That I survived.


  1. Wow! You captured all those feelings beautifully. *hugs tight* Your insight and understanding in this is deep and I think many people will relate to this.
    This is a very beautiful and hard poem to read. I love it. I think there was one thing I loved most abut HP and that was Hogswart. It was a place of not only childhood innocence but of wonderful magic and fun too and most of all safety. I may not be an orphan like Harry. But from the first time he stepped into Hogswart I could feel the same delight he did. How I long for my own safe place. I don't know how I would cope though if something happened to it like it did for Harry. He is also very brave to continue on despite all the losses he suffered. I need to be that kind of brave too.
    Thanks for posting another wonderful poem, Joseph *hugs* <3

  2. Octa, this is beautiful. Everything you wanted to capture, you did, and you conveyed it so wonderfully and strongly. Harry Potter is one of the most important things in my life, and I loved Dumbledore so much, and I think that with this poem you not only conveyed what Harry felt when he died, but what all the readers felt too.

    This is so brilliant, Octa.