Harry was sick of it all. Sick of the death and the blood and the battles. He just wanted it to stop. He hated the fact that all of it happened because of him, because he had to kill Voldemort and defend the wizarding world. He had to be the hero, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Why do I have to fly
over every town up and down the line?
I'll die in the clouds above
and you that I defend, I do not love.

Sometimes it all seemed like a dream, a nightmare out of which he desperately wanted to awake. He longed for the day when he could wake up and it could all be a memory.

I wake up, it's a bad dream,
No one on my side,
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
to be fighting,
guess I'm not the fighting kind.

Yet, at the same time, he dreaded what the end would bring. What if he was killed and Voldemort took over the wizarding world? What if he never found all the Horcruxes? The fate of the world was literally resting on his thin shoulders.

Where will I meet my fate?
Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate.
And when will I meet my end?
In a better time you could be my friend.

The worst of it was, Harry didn't know if he could keep fighting. He had no hope or energy left. Since Sirius and Hermione had died, he and Ron had just been trudging listlessly along. Had his godfather and Hermione been with them, Harry felt that the Light Side could have easily won the war by now.

I wake up, it's a bad dream,
No one on my side,
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
to be fighting,
guess I'm not the fighting kind.
Wouldn't mind it
if you were by my side
But you're long gone,
yeah you're long gone now.

He didn't know what else to do but keep trying to find the Horcruxes while trying to keep the rest of his friends alive. He thought back to his Hogwarts days, how young he'd been. He realized that though he'd been young he had never exactly been carefree because even at age eleven he'd had to face the Dark Lord.Still, he yearned to go back to those times.

Where do we go?
I don't even know,
My strange old face,
And I'm thinking about those days,
And I'm thinking about those days.

Yes, Harry was tired, sick, and made older every day by the wars that waged both around and inside him. But he had to keep fighting. No matter how many friends fell, no matter how long it took, he had to keep going. And he did.

I wake up, it's a bad dream,
No one on my side,
I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
to be fighting,
guess I'm not the fighting kind.
Wouldn't mind it
if you were by my side
But you're long gone,
yeah you're long gone now.

Almost a year later, Harry found himself standing over the crumpled body of the most evil wizard that ever lived. He looked around and took in the ruin surrounding him. Then the Boy Who Lived, the savior of the wizarding realm, walked away and never looked back.