A man was running
Running from his nightmares
Horrible creatures from his imagination

He ran and ran
Away from life and breath
Away from monsters and death
Away from love and children

He was 30 years old
His hair was graying
His breath was hard

Soon he reached a dead end
And he turned as he realized he had to face his fear
So he saw what he was running from

One monster was a simple hand
Just a hand with nails as sharp as knifes
One monster was a possessed doll
With the spirit of the devil in it.

One monster was just black
As black as death
One monster was fire and burning
A fireless fire of hell

As he saw his fears
As he saw his dreams
He snarled with anger
As he backed up into a wall

In his hands apeared a Sword
And with it he charged
For goodness,
For love,
And for his children.

With a slash and slice
He attacked the monsters
His dreams and nightmares
He fought them with his might.

Did he win?
Or did he lose?