That Storm on the Horizon
11. I'll keep on tearing apart, I'll keep on challenging
(…Harry…)

Hope was such an easy thing to lose – so fickle
but he desperately hung on; he needed it
because he couldn't stop fighting now.

He was just scratching, scratching barely felt,
deceptively, but scraping away little life cells
and exposing a little bit more flesh
where a sword could run through.

He'd thought that the storm was just an annoyance
but it was wearing him slowly down, without his know.
He just had to hold on to that,
even as his skin thinned, went slowly red.

They couldn't attack head on, not yet, not
while the other was a god above the sun, with his lightning
whip. They had to chip away first
at those chains that bound him to his eternal life
and that held him above the clouds.