Flying to the gates of the damned land, born to save the ones that he loved, kidnapped at young age, forever more alive in his memories. False intent to recognize enemies and friends between common people. His mind in something else. Hero, you're missed and you've committed a fault to humanity in the epic ages of the middle age, where everything was gray. Accept the sorrow that plays music in your head, destroying your brain and turning your body into a misshaped
figure that will terrorise future generations just by hearing your name. There's nothing so holy in this universe that can't be turned into a torn sin. Don't fall for the mistake of loving the beautiful princess in the top of the longest tower. Give a try to the new age of epic stories: the death of the hero that has nothing accomplished besides the curse of living to fail.
He doesn't want a white horse, he will not fight a dragon, he just wants his story to be told. Justify the name of your cause, let someone take the burden off your shoulders and into your head to remind you that you're still alive. Alive to fulfil the curse of living to fail. Born to crash and burn, die to once again cheer the world, keeping eternally this universe clean and free of the monsters in our nightmares. let your blood join the rain and fall upon the hungry mouths of the vampires in my dreams, that seem to know my future. Your life isn't worth living to help the needs of others considered creatures of evil and enemies of their false gods. Not even for your shiny armour that in battle will only hurt you. Await for the hammer of Thor to crush your body into my thousand pieces. Fly into the piece and quiet of some black hole in the sun.
Hero, you don't comfort the kids in the cold nights when they're scared of the monsters beneath their beds and inside their closets. Tell me, what is you purpose here besides to sacrifice your soul only for the benefit of this ungrateful humanity that we are. Walk into the red light that will take to the infernal suffer that it always always meant for me. It doesn't have a second meaning, you're doomed forever more to the fires of Hell. Don't ask what your god meant when he wrote with your blood on paper the words that have cursed your life, ask what god are you serving now that you know that I'm the creator of this seven universes. Hero there will be no story for you, no epic battle or love, just the doom written in the pages of time by me.