You are the Sword of Gryffindor,
Fashioned with rubies and out from silver.
Your appearance remained humble yet it shines,
Coveted by the eyes of all mankind.
You appear at the time of need,
Transformed from nothing for the kid.
Stabbed the cobra with your sharp teeth,
Imbued with poison your bloods are.
Powerful have you become,
As you only absorb those make strong.
You are the Sword of Gryffindor,
That only appears at the time of need.
This post was thought and written and erased far weeks ago. I think that time I was just finished with the Harry Potter series and got into delusional thoughts. When you start to notice, the series tend to revolves around the Sword of Gryffindor and "the Sword of Gryffindor". Confused? Don't be!
When I said the Sword of Gryffindor, what I really meant is the Sword of Gryffindor. The one made from pure silver and fashioned with rubies and owned by Godric Gryffindor (the rightful owner of the sword). If you have been following the series as an avid fan, you'll know that the sword was used to destroy horcruxes after it has been used to stab the Basilisk and the rest is nuff said.
On the other hand, what I meant with "the Sword of Gryffindor" is friends. Your friends. My friends. Our clique. Fashioned with rubies and out from silver, humble yet it shines. Who else that we cherish like silver and yet stays humble on our side? Friends are essential to human, thus coveted by the eyes of all mankind. You appear at the time of need, transformed from nothing for the kid. Before we were friends, we are strangers. Unknown and nothing between us. Yet, you appear when we needed a friend and a helping hand.
Stabbed the cobra with your sharp teeth, imbued with poison your bloods are. We fought hardships together, and the scars and experience made us stronger. We do not become weak when we are united. We become powerful as we only absorb those that makes us strong. You are the sword of Gryffindor, you are my friend and I am yours whom will appear at the time of need.
You are the Sword of Gryffindor and only a true Gryffindor could have pulled you out of the hat.
#foodforthought
Life's but a walking shadows, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
