Id.

beyond Perdition’s oaken doors
of wood lost innocence has cured
and hinges fired of woeful suffering
’tis there I walk when light succumbs
to nightfall’s half formed illusions
and battle hellions on nightmare’s wings,
though unlike fabled dragon’s ire
what waits for me inside the fire
have more familiar features to impart
and when the beasts descend on me
’tis only then discovery
that monsters we most fear are in our hearts.

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