You accuse me of being a madman, what right do you have to judge what is sane and what is not?
I have fought with the shadows on the edge of your vision.
I have seen the faces that laugh at you in your nightmares.
I have smelt the foetid breath that issues from the mouth of hell itself.
I have heard the silent voices that make your spine tingle with dread.
I have entered the realms between worlds where there is no time or place.
I have clashed with creatures the sight of which would sear your soul to the core.
I have bested horrors that chill with a gaze and tempt unreasoning terror.
I have faced death eye to eye and blade to blade.
I have gazed into the eyes of insanity and met their all-consuming stare.
I have done all this for her; for her love and the guarantee of her blessing for all mankind.
And yet you call me a madman, you who have never had your sanity tested so sorely.
What right do you have to call me heretic and blasphemer, who have never heard the whisper of dark gods in your ear?
You are weak. Vulnerable. Human in your weakness. I am strong and yet still you judge me.
And yet you still judge me for my sins, you who are most sinful to the heart?
Only the insane have strength enough to prosper; only those who prosper truly judge what is sane.