He bowed down low before his death, like his ancestor ,Ignotus, before him. <br> Greeted his end like an old friend, knowing the suffering would dim. <br> His friends lay dying in the battlefield, his home crumbled to dust, Yet he stood still and strong , and it was upon his shoulders that the greatest weight was thrust. <br> Surrounded by masked vengeance, his death would quench their thirst. <br> In front of him stood their master , regarding his enemy first. <br> Then raising his pale , ghost-like hand , he spoke two cursed words <br> and from the enchanted elm shot green light, deadlier than any amount of swords .<br> Unbidden into the victim's mind flew, the image of the girl he loved true <br> Then blissful oblivion, for his soul was free, and nothing more he knew. <br> Wait a bit, there's more you see, he isn't dead just yet. <br> To go back, or to move on, his decision is yet to be met. <br> Dumbledore says " Don't pity the dead, pity the living , and above all, those , who live without love ".<br> The young man sighs and looks above. <br> Taking the train back home, was a hard business you see. <br> But Harry potter was Harry potter, and to Voldemort's death, he held key. <br> He returned to misery, to despair, to death, knowing there was much to lose. <br> He fought for peace, for happiness, for hope, he put the dark lord into a final snooze. <br> People mourned loved ones all around him, the measure of relief was also some, <br> But he knew as he looked at the rising sun, someday , happiness would come. <br>
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