Don't own Harry Potter.
The flower has wilted
Her body lying there
Like a halo around her
Flows her golden red hair.
The stag so strong
Who once rode so proud
Is crumpled on the floor
His laughter never again allowed.
Two heroes have passed
Their corpses provide proof
For they lie under the rubble
Of the walls and the roof.
Though the flower has wilted
And the stag has fell
The love of the mother
Has saved the babe from Hell.
Jet black hair
And startling green eyes
Make this little living boy
A truly special prize
With the heart of a prankster
And a quick clever brain
Lily will bloom once more
And Prongs shall ride again.
Yay a poem! I normally don't write poetry, but this has been swirling around my brain for a whlie. I tried really hard to format this to look like normal poetry, but no such luck. The lines seperate each stanza. Sorry about that! Please Review!
Isabel