Princess

I surveyed the scene before me with a heavy heart. Dust clouded the land while small flames flickered here and there. Trees that once stood tall and proud lay uprooted and broken; as if a giant child had come and ripped them out and broken them to pieces, as small children often do with twigs or with flowers.

Bodies; scattered across the battlefield, lay helpless and weak, dead or injured. As I searched, stepping over and around bodies, the remainders of some spells lay evident; boils and sores and unusual colorations on some, strange growths and total mutations on others. I sped up, my searching becoming more frantic. Where was he?

I reached the edge of the field, my heart tugging in despair. I saw Ron Weasley's wife helping him to stagger across the field, and the newly reformed Draco Malfoy levitating Neville Longbottom and Padma Patil over to the medics' tent. And then I saw him. My love. My life. My husband, lying on the side of the field, gasping for breath. I rushed over to him .

"Harry!" I cried. "Oh, God, Harry!"

He looked lovingly up into my eyes, and touched my cheek with a weak and gentle hand.

"Princess," he whispered hoarsely. I let out a choked sob. He smiled. "Don't cry," he whispered. "You'll be fine."

"I don't care about me!" I cried. "Harry! I-" I jumped up and pulled my wand out. He shook his head. "Harry, I've got to get you some help!" He shook his head again.

"It's time, Princess," he said weakly, as the soft red glow of accumulated curses finally overtook him. "It's my time."

"No!" I cried. "It isn't! Harry, you're going to be okay!" He laughed softly to himself. I dropped to my knees beside him and took him into my arms.

"You can't die, Harry!" I begged. "You can't let him win! You can't let Voldemort win!"

He chuckled softly. "Do you really think that he's won, Princess?" he asked. "Do you really think he's won?" I bit my lip, my eyes welling up with tears and a large lump growing in my throat. I didn't know how to answer. If Harry died...how would we beat Voldemort? Harry had been the one foretold to be his downfall...but how could he be when he was dead? How?

"I don't know!" I confessed, the tears spilling out and streaming down my cheeks. He shook his head and struggled to sit up. He leaned against a tree and pulled me towards him.

"I was his downfall," he whispered into my hair. "I was his weakness. Now it's up to you to finish what I started!" He took my left ring finger and showed me my scar: a small pinprick at the very tip.

"You see this?" he said, showing me my scar and comparing his identical one to mine.

"Your blood is mine, and mine is yours," he whispered. "As long as my blood runs through your veins, you will be able to kill Voldemort." I looked up at him, surprised.

"We will kill him together," he said. "We haven't failed; quite the contrary, Princess!" His breathing grew tired and haggard and he held me tight. I buried my face into his jet-black hair and inhaled his scent. His scent was so unique- it was completely indescribable. He just smelled like Harry.

"No," I whispered, barely audible. "You can't go! I love you!" I looked up at him and saw a tear roll down his pale cheek.

"Everything's gonna be all right...

...Rockabye...

...Rockabye...

Everything is gonna be all right..." he sang softly. Then he hugged me with what little strength he had left.

"I love you, Princess," he said, as his eyes softly closed.

"HARRY!" I screamed out, my voice becoming hoarse. "Harry!" I sobbed, as I lay him gently on the ground.

Then I curled up beside him and cried until he went cold.

§§§

I can't be losing sleep over this

No, I can't.

And I cannot stop pacing-

Give me a few hours

And I'll have this thing all sorted out.

If my mind would just stop racing-

I cannot stand still!

I can't be this unsturdy!

This cannot be happening!

This is over my head-

But underneath my feet,

Because by tomorrow morning

I'll have this thing beat.

And everything will be

Back to the way it was.

I wish that it was just that easy!

I am waiting for tonight,

Then waiting for tomorrow,

And I am Somewhere Inbetween

What is real and just a dream.

§§§

If I thought that the battle was Hell; I was quite mistaken.

It was waking up the morning after the battle that had behell. I thought that it was all just a bad nightmare, until I rolled over to hug Harry and he wasn't there. I bolted upright, the terrible memories of the past week coming back to me. I sat at the head of the king-size bed and rocked back and forth, my knees to my chest, as memories flooded my brain. Both wonderful and painful memories of the past crowded my mind and reminded me of the cruel reality more than the horrible brandy-induced hangover ever could.

My mind floater to our wedding night; in particular; the song we danced to. I sang softly and started to weep.

"Slow dancin' on the boulevard,

In the quiet moments-

While the city's still dark.

Sleepwalkin' through the summer rain

And the tired spaces

You could hear his name

When he was warm and tender,

And you held your arms around him,

There was nothing but his

Love and Affection.

He was crazy for you

Now he's part of something

That you lost...

And for all you know

This could be

The difference between

What you need-

And what you wanna be,

Yeah, what you wanna be..."

'Oh God,' I thought. 'He's gone, he's really gone...' My heart sank with the realization. 'The battle...the defeat...Harry's body...' I thought. 'The battle, the defeat, Harry's body, the battle the defeat Harry's body thebattlethedefeatHarry'sbody-' my mind raced until it felt like it would explode. I screamed; my anger and pain so prominent that every glass object in the room shattered.

I leapt off the bed and tore around the bedroom, throwing and breaking everything else that could be thrown and broken. Like my possessions, I felt that my heart was breaking.

I fell beside my bed, my legs drawn up to my chest, my head resting on my knees and I began to sob.

§§§

I went through the day mechanically, like a zombie. I felt dead like there was no point in anything.

Well, was there a point in anyng?

I thought of nothing all day except for Harry. Every little thing reminded me of him. The house was driving me insane. I had to get out of there. I put down my pen, grabbed my coat and headed out into the street.

The pleasant breeze and warm sun of the day before had suddenly turned into a blackened cloud and biting wind. I shivered subconsciously and pulled my coat tighter.

I strode down the street briskly, my head down, not stopping or slowing for anyone that might cross my path. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't know why, but I didn't really care, either.

I walked with my head down for quite some time when finally, after about half an hour I stopped, and just stared at the buildings that lay before me.

One was an apartment building; one was a small store; one was a doctors and dentist's office; while another was a restaurant. But it was the fifth one that intrigued me the most.

A small, squat structure, big enough to fit two people comfortably- three; only if you were desperate. I smiled at the memory where I was once one of six people that fit snugly inside, jammed up against the wall.

It was the phone-booth: the entry to the Ministry of Magic. I stepped back and gazed at the four Muggle buildings. Did the people inside have any idea that their homes; their businesses; their lives lay atop one of the most beautifully constructed yet horribly-run Governments in the world? I doubt that they did have any idea. I frowned darkly. These people probably had no idea at all that there was a whole other world out there: a world of evil, of pain and anger and sadness; a world where Harry Potter was dead and the evil that had killed him was laying right at the heart of the building that lay under their lives.

"Voldemort," I spat. Even the name tasted vile in my mouth.

It was then that I realized that I had to do something. I couldn't just rejoin the battle: oh, no, that would be too easy! I had to torture Voldemort. I had to torture him for longer than he could even handle and then I would kill him like he did Harry.

I had to.

§§§

The funeral was Hell. Every witch and wizard in Britain was there. I had refused to give a eulogy; and the damn Minister just couldn't seem to understand why. Harry's other close friends had, wasn't that enough?

I stood there, in the cold, the blackened clouds threatening to spill over. The Minister of our church gave his little speech, and I laid a single blood red rose on Harry's black coffin before they lowered it into the cold, hard ground.

I did not shed a single tear. I couldn't. My mind was screaming, screaming for a release, screaming for me to let it gout I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I gazed over the coffin, willing myself to keep a dry eye, though I was the only dry eye there. Everyone was wailing, sobbing, yet I would not allow myself to cry. I would not give Voldemort that luxury, that victory.

After the funeral I had people that I didn't even know coming up to me and giving their condolences. They would say that they were sorry for my loss, that Harry had been a good man, a great fighter...did they think that I did not already know this? So I just stared at them while they were offering their pity...they would eventually trail off into what would be an awkward silence- for them. I would just continue gazing at them until they made their excuses and left.

Ron, being Harry's best friend, had offered for me to stay with them for awhile, while Cho Chang offered her services for whatever I needed, from cleaning and shopping to just a shoulder to cry on. What, did everyone think that I was some kind of invalid that couldn't do anything for myself? I was insulted. So I just stared at them and mildly shook my head...but it didn't have the same effect on them that it did everyone else...so eventually I made my excuses and left.

As I headed over to the Apparition Point (a couple hundred witches and wizards, most of whom had never even heard of a car had resulted in Ron pulling some strings for a temporary apparition point) Cornelius Fudge approached me with, what looked like, quite a degree of caution. I swore under my breath.

"Er, M-Ms. Potter," he said attentively. "Would ... would you care for anything the Ministry can provide? I can pull a few strings?" I spun around and glowered at him from under my wide-brimmed black hat. He tugged at his collar nervously. "If, uh, if you, er-"

"I neither want nor require anything that you could possibly provide," I said, stepping up to him so closely that I saw the tiny individual veins popping in his neck. He stepped back, apparently frightened. He had been so against the idea that Voldemort had actually returned all those years ago; he had been so convinced that Harry had been making up - how did he phrase it? Oh yes - 'cock and bull stories' that I was completely astounded at his offer of help. And I was exceptionally insulted by him, as well. I turned away, willing him to just disappear into thin air.

"Nothing," I said. "Apart from needing my husband back."

"Ms. Potter-" I turned back around, such anger in my heart that I was sure I was going to curse him if he didn't leave.

"Leave, now, before I hex you," I said icily, through clenched teeth. "Don't you think you've done enough?"

Bristling, he opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again before deciding that he didn't want to say anything. He tipped his hat.

"Good day, Ms. Potter," he said shortly, before turning to leave. I didn't answer. I watched him walk away, and as I turned to apparate, I had a fleeting look and spotted Voldemort, with a wide, triumphant smile on his twisted, evil face.

§§§

For the rest of the afternoon, all I could think of was killing Voldemort. Thoughts of him, kneeling before me, begging for his life brought a twisted sort of smile to my face and I decided that the sooner I made him suffer, the better.

I sat down and analyzed the situation. I looked at maps of the Ministry, of which Voldemort had taken over; I looked at scrolls which contained the passwords and entrance codes and spells for different sections of the Ministry; I looked at traps and alarms; and at who guarded what, when and where. Then I looked at timing, spells and escape routes before I asked myself the question: 'What was I hiding from? Why do I need to sneak in there?' So it was then that I decided that the only way to go was straight through the front door. I realized that I didn't care who I came across: I would kill them all, anyway, so what was the point? A smile spread over my face as I picked up another map to study my route and took a long sip of my coffee.

This was going to be fun!

§§§

You could be right and I'll be real;

Honesty won't be a pain that you will have to feel...

I gracefully slip on a pair of tight black leather pants, along with a snug-fitted black sleeveless turtleneck and a short black leather jacket. I zip it up.

...'Cause I don't need your approval

To find my worth.

I slide my feet into a pair of knee-high fitted black leather boots. I will need to be able to move swiftly as possible.

I've been trapped inside

Of my own mind...

I step over to my dresser. I pick up my brush and run it through my thick, long hair.

...Afraid to open my eyes

'Cause of what I'd find...

I slip on my wedding ring. The diamond glitters spectacularly in the dim firelight. I fasten on the locket that Harry gave me on our first wedding anniversary.

...And I don't wanna live

Like this anymore.

I thickly apply the black eyeliner and mascara, slowly and deliberately.

There goes my pain,

There goes my chains-

Did you see them fall?

The 'Black Cherry' lipstick goes on. I lick my lips, and they shine in the dim light.

There goes this feeling

That has no meaning:...

I move to my bedside chair, where my wand is quietly laying; itching for the night. I pick it up and lay it beside my long, black, hooded robe and black leather gloves. I am ready.

...There goes the world-

Off of my shoulders!

There goes the world-

Off of my back!

There it goes!

§§§

Laying a bookmark in my book, I looked to the clock on the wall for the millionth time. Fifteen minutes to go. I sighed, removed my bookmark and attempted some more reading, even though I knew that I would get nowhere. My eyes would run over the same words again and again, over the same page again and again, yet I had no idea as to what it said. I just couldn't concentrate. Not with what I was about to do.

I looked to the clock again. Nine minutes to go. I replaced my bookmark and lay the book in my lap. I stared into the flames that flickered in the fireplace before me and my mind ran over my plan over and over, scanning for any faults or loose threads that needed tying. I thought of Voldemort and smiled. How wonderful it would be to finally kill him...with a combination of my rage and Harry's blood running through my veins, I was going to curse him into Oblivion and be sure that he would never return.

I broke away from my thoughts and looked to the clock again. Four minutes to go. I thrust my book onto the coffee table beside me, knocking over my cold coffee in the process. It dripped slowly, dark and bitter, onto my pristine platinum-white carpet, no doubt staining it forever. I didn't care. What I was about to do was more important than any carpet on the face of the earth.

I ignored it and stood up. I started pacing, noticed my shakes. Was it fear? Was I afraid of what I was about to do? Was I afraid of what the outcome might be? I laughed at the thought. The outcome could be; would be nothing other that which I had ensured. No, 'the shakes' was my anger. My rage. Once I thought about it, I realized that I wasn't afraid. At all.

I looked to the clock again. Midnight. It was time. I pulled on my robe and my gloves and picked up my wand. And I apparated.

§§§

Looking around the Atrium, I was disappointed but not surprised to find no one in sight; and all was silent. Even the water that consistently poured out of the golden fountain had stopped.

Holding my wand steady, I sprinted off down the hall, past the fountain and the desk where the Watchwizard usually sat, and through the golden gates to the lifts, where I saw two Death Eaters - Goyle and Macnair - patrolling the walkway vigilantly.

Keeping out of sight, I put my wand to my lips, ejecting a sweet smelling, sugary tasting venom onto my already coated lips. From the dark, I saw the two men continue to patrol the pathway for a few moments...until Macnair stopped to sniff the air.

"Do you smell that?" he asked. Goyle stopped, surprised, and took a deep whiff of the air. I smiled.

"Yeah," he replied. "What is it?" Macnair shook his head.

"I don't know," he said suspiciously, removing his wand from the pockets of his robes. "But I'm gonna find out!" He walked the opposite way, with Goyle watching his back, and I snorted. God, these men were thick! I stepped out of the shadows.

"Boys," I said sweetly, stepping carefully, one foot in front of the other until I was about three feet behind them. They turned, shocked, and I smiled seductively.

"You!" exclaimed Macnair. I widened my eyes innocently.

"Yes, me!" I laughed. He looked confused for a moment, yet still suspicious, with his wand pointed towards me, at the ready for any trouble. I sidled up to him seductively and slid my arms around his neck.

"Did you really expect anyone else?" I whispered into his ear.

"Wha-" he started, confused. I pressed my lips onto his and held them there until I felt him freeze in my arms. I pulled away and smiled at the alarmed look on his face.

"Black Widow Spider venom mixes beautifully with Dragon's blood," I whispered in his ear. I pulled away and watched the confusion in his face transform into panic for about five seconds before he collapsed and turned a hideous shade of green. I turned to Goyle and watched the fear rise in him. I grinned evilly before quickly striding up to him and pressing my lips onto his as well.

"Bye bye!" I whispered as I stepped back and watched him collapse. I looked at them both disdainfully and snorted. That was too easy.

I hailed an elevator and almost immediately one clanged and clattered onto the floor. The golden grilles slid apart with a great, echoing clatter and I quietly stepped inside.

Pressing the number 'nine' button, I was sure that all the noise would alert the rest of them to my presence.

'Perfect,' I thought, smiling. 'No one is going to be left once I'm through here!'

The lift halted, a smooth female voice announcing, "Department of Mysteries," and the grilles clattered open. I stepped out into the corridor where all but the flickering torches were silent, and turned towards the plain black door where to my surprise, Peter Pettigrew, the rat (no pun intended) that had sold Harry's parents out to Voldemort stood, wand ready, a terrified expression on his mousy face. I drew my wand.

"Hello Pettigrew," I said smoothly. He pointed his wand at me with a shaky hand. I laughed and stepped up to him, wrapping my arms around him.

"Are you ready to die tonight?" I whispered, slowly, carefully withdrawing a silver dagger out from the pocket of my robes.

"What do you want from me?" he whimpered. I cocked my head and moved away slightly, keeping my arms wrapped around his neck.

"Why, you do seem rather nervous for such a good Death Eater," I said innocently. He whimpered and privately I wondered how much more disgusting this pathetic excuse for a man could get. I put my head back over his shoulder and nibbled on his ear, before whispering, "I want you, Pettigrew," and stabbing him in the stomach. I moved away and watched him cry out and clutch at the dagger that stood out from him so prominently. I stepped back up to him and twisted the knife in his stomach. He screamed in pain and I wretched it out of him, causing him to stagger back and finally fall to the ground, dead, with his eyes open and frozen in a pathetic sort of fear. I shook my head disgustedly.

"Pathetic," I muttered, before stepping over his body and opening the door, revealing a large, completely black, circular room. Even the identical, handleless, unmarked doors were black and the room's only sources of light were the blue-flamed torches that sat in brackets on the walls.

I shut the door behind me and stepped out into the middle, praying that this would work. Then came the great rumbling noise, and the circular wall started to rotate. Faster and faster it spun, the blue torches now looking like a long, circular neon light.

Then finally, the spinning stopped, and I selected a door on my left. I pushed it open, revealing another long, dark corridor, where stood yet another Death Eater, whom I recognized to be Nott. I smiled. He drew out his wand and pointed it right at me.

"Avada Ke-"

"Accio Wand!" I said lazily, and his wand flew out of his hand and into mine. "Not so tough anymore, are we?" I taunted. I turned to walk away, but at the last second turned back around.

"Avada Kedavra!" I yelled, pointing my wand at his heart. He let out a cry and fell to the floor, eyes wide open. I threw his wand down and kicked his pathetic body aside.

I rapidly strode down to the end of the hall and opened the door. I stepped inside and nearly gasped. Why, this couldn't be- this wasn't the right room! Was it?

Then I heard a hissing sound and I knew immediately that it was.

In this particular room; the room that would soon become the "great" Lord Voldemort's tomb, hung great, heavy drapes of deep red with golden lining, pulled over equally great windows. On the floor lay a large Persian rug, and on top of that, to the far end of the room facing the elegant fireplace sat the one and only Lord Voldemort, in a large, deep red armchair, also lined with rich gold.

"It's about time, Wormtail," he rasped in his ugly, cold, high-pitched voice. I laughed loudly.

"Do I really look so ugly that you would misname me after your servant?" I asked. Voldemort laughed.

"Ah, Ms. Potter," he said. "I didn't expect you so soon!"

I smirked. "You underestimate me."

"Yes, yes," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Lucius, would you be so kind as to rid me of Ms. Potter here?"

"Of course, Master," sneered Lucius Malfoy, stepping out of the shadows. I grew angry at Voldemort's ignorance and dismissiveness. Lucius pointed his wand at me. I was too fast for him.

"Avada Kedavra!" I cried, casting the killing curse once again. Lucius fell to the floor with a thud.

"Do not ignore me, Voldemort!" I insisted impatiently. He laughed again

"My dear, you are not important enough to consider!" he exclaimed. Heat pulsated through my body at the anger of being ignored, being thrown aside. I always hated being ignored. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, letting the rage consume me, my body, until all I could think of was killing Voldemort. I looked up, a fire in my amber eyes. A song had come to mind. I flicked my wand, and the appropriate music cut into the silence like a knife.

Voldemort stood and drifted around the armchair and stood, facing me, his wand ready and a curious look on his ugly, snakelike face. I lifted my wand gracefully...he raised his menacingly...

...I am

A little bit of loneliness,

A little bit of disregard...

I sent a binding curse at him, and he collapsed, stiff as a board. I reached out to curse him again when my head began to pound and I cried out, dropping my wand, feeling like my head would explode. He broke out of his bindings, and immediately the pain stopped...

...A handful of complaints

But I can't help the fact

That everyone can see these scars...

...I shot out a curse at him, sending white-hot flames dancing around his body. He cried out, and sent a serpent my way. The serpent began to wrap itself around me, crushing my body...

...I am

What I want you to want,

What I want you to feel...

... I cried out, in pain and in anger, and in my rage, I grew hot, white-hot, and the serpent squealed and let go, hissing and slithering dangerously back to Voldemort...

But it's like

No matter what I do,

I can't convince you,

To just believe this is real...

...I sent a series of blue lightning bolts to him; he deflected them, sending them back to me, and I sent them soaring into the curtains, which erupted into flames...

...So I

Let go,

Watching you,

Turn your back

Like you always do!

Face away and pretend that I'm not

But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I got...

...He cast the Cruciatus Curse my way...I dodged it, and it shattered the window behind me. I cast the killing curse on his serpent...she curled up and lay motionless. Voldemort let out a cry of anger and raised his wand...I did the same...

...I can't feel

The way I did before

Don't turn your back on me

I won't be ignored!

Time won't heal

This damage anymore

Don't turn your back on me

I won't be ignored!...

I cast the deflection curse onto him...he fell to the floor with a thud. By the time he had struggled into a sitting position I had my wand at his throat. The music faded into nothing...and soon, the only sounds in the room was my rapid, tired breathing and his short, jagged, forced breathing. His face twisted into a contorted sort of grin and he laughed loudly.

"INCENDIO!" I screamed. Voldemort burst into flame and he screamed in pain. My rage exploded at his weakness. I lifted my free arm into the air, my body, in turn, rising a foot off of the ground, all the while, my wand still pointed at his heart.

"You weak, pathetic fool!" I cried. "You kill so many innocent people, yet you cannot handle a simple curse?!"

He glared at me hatefully, struggling up from the floor.

"You Murderer," I whispered. "You destroyed everything. Everything I loved...everything I lived for...YOU DESTROYED MY LIFE!" I screamed. I searched his snakelike face for some sign of emotion, but there was none. And that made me even angrier.

"Crucio!" I cried, and he fell back to the floor, writhing about in excruciating pain. I stopped. "You disgusting piece of filth," I continued softly. I looked to him sadly. It was truly disappointing how pathetic Lord Voldemort really was when it came down to it. Then I thought of Harry...my Harry...and my rage again exploded within me.

"I hope you remember me in HELL!" I screamed, raising my wand once more, which let out a bright green streak of light, hitting Voldemort right where his heart should have been. He cried out as green flames encircled him.

Then, as the flames died down, he collapsed to the floor, with a soft thud on the now-stained Persian Carpet.

At last, Voldemort was dead.

Then I felt it. It was dull at first; just an ache; then it became much more prominent It was a sharp, piercing pain. I clutched my chest in agony. I felt as though this pain was a thousand times worse than the Cruciatus Curse. I screamed out in pain and fell to the floor where I lay and cried.

My heart was broken.

§§§

I awoke at dawn, void of all emotions except for rage. I was angry at Voldemort, at his Death Eaters, for obvious reasons; at Cornelius Fudge, for being such a weak and pathetic Minister for Magic; and at many others, but most of all, I was angry at myself. So I made a decision.

I apparated out of the building to the street, where all was quiet, and with a flick of my wand, the ground started to rumble, and the whole Ministry of Magic came up through the ground, destroying the buildings above.

I stepped up to it, touching my wand tip to its hot surface. As I felt the power and rage surge through me, I concentrated the smallest fraction of that through the tip of my wand and I stepped back.

Neon blue electricity currents danced over the building. I moved back to the other side of the street, and pointing my wand to the building-

"Incendio!" I cried, and the Ministry of Magic exploded like no other before it.

§§§

Three Days Later...

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" said Fudge gruffly. Madam Bones stepped up.

"It has, Your Honor," replied Bones.

"Will the defendant please rise," said Fudge, looking at me and swallowing nervously. I rose, and smirked. "What say you?"

"In the matter of State versus Potter, we find the defendant guilty, of all charges," said Bones. I smiled, and then burst out into uncontrollable laughter. I sat there, clutching my stomach, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Ms. Potter, will you please control yourself!" cried Fudge. I shook my head and looked up.

"You fools," I whispered. "You ignorant fools!" I cried. I rose above them all and hovered above the centre of the room. There were screams and cries - they all knew what I was capable of - but I just laughed them off. "Sonorus," I whispered, pointing my wand at my throat.

"The age of Lord Voldemort is over!" I cried. I looked over to where my brother Ron and his wife Hermione were sitting, and smiled at them sadly. I looked up, my rage coming back to me.

"And so dawns a new era - a black era - and I, Virginia Potter, am a sorceress a witch beyond all witches and wizards, and I will hunt down and kill every last evil doing witch and wizard in honor and in vengeance of Harry Potter!"

And with a loud crack, I apparated.

§§§

...A hundred days have made me older

Since the last time that I saw your pretty face

A thousand lies have made me colder

And I don't think I can loot this the same

But all the miles that separate

They disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face

The miles just keep rolling

As the people leave their way to say hello

I've heard this life is overrated

But I hope that it gets better as I go

Everything I know, and anywhere I go

It gets hard, but it won't take away my love

And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done

It gets hard, but it won't take away my love

I'm here without you baby

But you're still on my lonely mind

I think about you baby

And I dream about you all the time

I'm here without you baby

But you're still with me in my dreams

And tonight, boy, I wish it were only you and me...

I gazed at the sea, the wind flowing through my unrestrained hair, and I looked down to the sharp rocks below and contemplated jumping.

'No,' I thought. 'I've made an oath. And I will kill anyone that crosses my path...' I put a hand to my stomach subconsciously.

"Now, it's just you and me," I whispered to my baby.

§§§