Fear.

Anguish.

Torment.

Deceit.

These guardians four, the lords of fire

Guard my path, blades extended

No weapon on me (it was broken)

I stand at a crossroads, unattended.

Fear is first, the hostage-taker

He holds her behind him, without force

The road before him is ice

But it’s cracked and unstable, of course.

Anguish is next, metallic in shape

After him is a man, suitcase in tow

One can see green spring from this case

But alas, this pain will not make it so.

Torment dares to hold the key

To the heart of the girl I sought

But she locked herself behind this malice

And therefore my efforts were for naught.

Deceit is the final guardian

Nothing lies beyond her

But she is a cruel temptress

To the lord of darkness, she shouts “Sir!”

Where is my Tyrael?

My Raphael, my own archangels?

Have these most holy aides abandoned me?

When I need them most, their questioning, to me entangles.