The Metoners Poem by Fathimath Farha

I've only recently become a fan of HarryPotter and i guess this poem was inspired by the Dementors, which i find very cool by the way. And here we go,

And when the sun sets low, the moon rises high,
The white Metoners come out to play.
In the dim moonlight,
Their silver forms twirl and illuminate.
Bewitching you, frightening you.
Once spotted they come after you.
Whispering your name, they call out to you.
You run, screaming, wanting to get away.
Yet no one hears you, no one’s there.
You are tiring, they are persistent.
They howl after you, they are coming nearer.
Run! Faster…no, it does not matter,
They are still close, taunting you at each step,
You fall, they crowd over you.
They scratch you, they hurt you.
You want to get away, you can’t.
You are screaming, no one hears you.
You are shouting for help, they are taking your soul.
You cry, helpless. What else can you do?
You die;
Finally, the Metoners came through.