Maybe Someday

Things weren't always this way. At one time, I use to smile, laugh, and warm my face in the sun but now, just dank stillness.

The war had torn the countryside, lives, my life apart.

Just when I thought I could be happy - live a life I was worthy of - love as if I was worthy of it - all was scattered.

Appalling on how weak dreams of men actually are when you think of it

Nothing more then an intangible thing, and no matter how hard you hang on, it dissolves in front of you and becomes something else.

Perhaps someone else's dream or maybe someone else's greatest fear

But no longer is it yours any more then the sunbeams that warm the Earth.

They are always there but you can never touch just one

You, my dear Remus are suppose to be here right now - not a prisoner of your own mind.

You rub you flaxen hair in the morning, slumped over your cereal.

You hardly look at me and when you do; your eyes are masked - clouded over with no recognition of the love we shared.

You lull about in your recliner by the bay window staring - staring - staring

Some days I think you're coming back.

Your eyes seem to light up at the sight of Sirius or Albus but when they leave after hours of one-sided conversation you slump back to your vegetative state.

The war unhinged you, you poor man.

Maybe someday my dream will come back - maybe someday, you'll wake up - maybe someday the war will finally be over in your soul.

I brush my hand through your hair like I use to.

I'm sitting so close - but you're mind is floating in some unseen limbo.

Each day I spoon-feed you - each day I brush your hair - each day I wash your body while you sit there helpless.

You were such a proud man at one time but know - nothing is left but the shell of a man.

The only time noise escapes your lips is on the full moon.

You shriek and howl - eyes a flame - somewhere behind the fire I think I can almost see you.

I hold your hand but no words come anymore.

Just the silence between you and me.

Just once, I will you to squeeze my hand.

That Remus J Lupin isn't dead - just lost

But maybe it's me that I should worry about.

Each day in this silence, I slip further from the world I thought I knew and into another.

Maybe yours - no worries, if it is, I won't fight.

I lead you to bed and pull the quilts over you.

In the night I turn over to look at you - your eyes are open, full of the emotion that has been repressed for 5 years.

I can feel the love in those gray eyes.

Then you close them and slip away one last time.

Maybe someday I'll see you again - maybe someday...