Riddle for a name,
secrets lay blame.
Speak in snake
for everyone’s sake.

Chambers of cave
and porcelain grave
where myrtle trees grow
and willows blow.

Bad business afoot,
full confidence put,
help always found,
if you ask around.

Spider trails lead
to answers indeed,
but questions grow
increasing woe.

Medusa-like eyes
leave us petrified,
unless evil reject
and sight reflect.

Then blinded beast,
with anger increased,
will wound to kill
lest Phoenix tears heal.

The book destroy,
this truth employ:
all blood is pure,
of that I’m sure.

My friends and I are watching all the movies…all the Magical Beasts and all the Harry Potters. This was the poem I wrote while watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.