In my dreams, you died. The coffin held you in its grip, and standing there in armour, I felt powerless to defeat it. You saw only my hatred as your eyes closed, and I knew they would never see anything else. I wandered the earth to find your ear, to find a place I could whisper that I was sorry. But the only place I found was my own mind. Im sorry, im sorry, im sorry. I whispered again and again, but only I could hear it. And this was as it was destined to be. As you were chained to the coffin, so too was I chained to my own guilt.