Mundungus Fletcher

Flickering lights upon my doom,
Darkening outlines closer loom,
Defying the dead or celebrating life,
Either way, involved deep in strife,
Clapping buckles on knees too weak,
Harsh words, cutting like a beak,
The lamp's golden light dies out,
Merciless ramblings he begins to spout,
Ages imprisoned in this horrid cell,
Clutching secrets I refuse to tell,
Leaving life holds naught but relief,
Martyred, more than just a measly thief.