THE LORD OF ANGER
"Dreams are the gateway to the soul."
Voldemort stumbled across his room as he awoke from his sleep. He hated sleep. He abhorred the weakened state it left him in until he woke, but most of all he hated the dreams or rather his lack of dreams. He lusted for the time when he could play out his desires, his fears and of course his ideas in his head. He had at one point after leaving Hogwarts slept only for this very reason, to see his dreams, and then one night they had vanished, so he tried again the next night, and the next, and the next until for the first time in his life he felt sadness. For it was only in his dreams that he could love, and though he never showed it, the thing he feared most was not death, or the dark, it was love.
How could one simple emotion lead to the deaths of all the greatest men alive. Ceaser with Cleopatra, and though Ceaser's death lay not at the hands of Cleopatra he was killed, because of his rule, he was killed because of how he tried to reach his goals for a better society. Had Cleopatra not enticed him to become a dictator, his death would not have occurred. It seemed ironic how most tyrants would have lived longer had they not tried to attain immortality.