Another one! I dont love this one, although I like the first and last verse (its repeated). Hope you enjoy!
Department Of Mysteries
Row upon row of high up shelves,
Clear orbs that sound like bells,
When shattered on the cold floor,
Of that dark and hidden corridor.
Rushing past row fifty-eight,
Hoping that they aren’t to late,
No time left to debate,
Whether the thestrals would wait.
Reaching for the dusty ball,
It would be tragic to let it fall,
Suddenly he hears a call,
And see a figure by the wall.
Now they’re running room to room,
Hearing the steady boom,
And seeing the spells zoom,
Realizing their almost certain doom.
Row upon row of high up shelves,
Clear orbs that sound like bells,
When shattered on the cold floor,
Of that dark and hidden corridor.
By: Gwen |