Harry Potter Poem for the Daily Prophet.
The eyes, they watch as round they go.
The eyes, they watch their heads, their toes.
The eyes, they close when death is near.
The eyes, they close - but they still hear.
The eyes, they know he played with fire.
The eyes, they know that his luck expired.
The eyes, they cry as they have spun.
The eyes, they cry when he is done.
The eyes of some miss final second,
the eyes of all see dark lord slacken.
The eyes of bad now spread in fright.
The eyes of good start a new fight.
The eyes of living watch hands now close
the eyes of those who death's men chose.
The eyes now red and raw from tears,
they cry and cry - none left to hear