Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so;
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep last, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die
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Death's vengeance || Harry Potter AU
Fanfiction"Avengers..." "Is that a clothes brand?" Harry becomes The master of death he, thinks it's time to start over again. He jumps into the veil. Well that's one way of doing it...
