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A battle hardly won,
A life in shatters,
Scattered memories
of a forgotten moment,
A meaningless time,
Everything he had,
was her,
Everything he strived for,
was her,
and in a moment he dispelled the illusion,
and found,
she was not dead,
till he had killed her.
A battle against his own fury,
against something that played with his eyes,
and toyed with his mind.
His mind was broken,
dashed by one foul swoop
of cold, blunt object.
The one that has spilt so much blood,
He looked now past the despair to the only thing he knew that was left to do,
and like some wretched omen standing before him.The door itself made his blood run cold, as he knew was that despite all the suffering he had felt and caused, whatever was through that door would change everything he had ever know.
The iron layered door, with rusted bolts, oozing with an ill green paste, whatever was left for his life was through there.
even if all it was,
was death.

As he walked close he imagined a glowing rune above that door, similar to those of his dreams, it didn't matter anymore. He was numb, and felt as lifeless as the body of the loved one left in his wake, it didn't matter anymore. He came to make this right,

It was time for it to end.