The path of wretchedness is wicked and divine, it leads us into temptation and delivers us unto fire. These are the words of a once great dragon who called fire from the skies thus creating stars.
The silken sheets silently steal the night's glimmers away within its fold. The cloth trickles across her figure as though the wind could steal a kiss. I caress her folds with my presence and it is then I know it for what true beauty is. The land before me is beauty, and her beauty is reflected in the creatures that tread upon her. I weep at this, for I know that the last of my powers may be the only thing that saves them.
My blood drips from my arms, the seven incisions sliced into my skin serve as a memory of what I had given before. Only two left now. Two more lives to live. Maybe next time they can get it right.
I mark myself once more, the blood drips onto the sand below me as I chant an ancient ritual. Nine words, nine times, then it will be done. I see before me the dark portal crumbling. My body runs dry and lifeless of power, there will be no magic to stop this from happening again in the new world. No, it will be a world without magic.
In this world I choose to live the last life I have been given, and live every moment with my love. For that is the one mistake I can not erase from this world.