THE BOY WHO ENDED THE NIGHT

The boy who lived,
And the dark lord,
Light gleamed from either wands,
Until one fell and the other stood.

The train station pulls next,
Young wizards waited,
Unknown of what lies further,
Assumed victory at the feet of goodness.

Stood among them,
Was his son,
Alongside his sister,
Awaiting resplendently.

The train forwards,
Inside, radiance and fervence
Questions arise giving way,
As the sky turns night.

Years unfold steady,
The son grows up, Albus,
After the long gone head master,
Wand harnessed right handed.

He makes his way,
“The one who shall not be named”,
Supposedly torn to pieces ,
Yet standing before them was he.

The gem of his life,
Given as the horcrux,
Was not completely destroyed,
As the last is the finest.

However this night,
Sheathed with wands on either sides,
Stood Albus on the right,
Poised left, Voldemort.

This tale ends here,
the horcrux breaks into pieces,
As victory salutes Albus,
The boy who ended the night.