Pitiful

If it's all based on a dream... yet parts are real... how must the dreamer decipher what is reality and what is not? I knew beyond a doubt I'd been right all along. Then I knew beyond a doubt I'd been wrong. Where is the truth? What will shed light on this ongoing nightmare?

I thought I had escaped.

The shadows have returned. The sunlight is fading once again. A monster rises to attack and devour, leaving behind a path of torturous pitfalls for the weary traveler who does not watch his step. I once stared down into the abyss, wishing for freedom from the chains with which life had bound me. I believed that nightmare had been my doing - my fault.

I now stare down into the abyss once more, again wishing for freedom. But this time it's a freedom of this ongoing war. This ongoing obsession. My mind cannot release the past and let the dead remain buried. My heart cannot see through the fog to the other side where surely there is peace.

Perhaps the nightmare that blamed me for the tragedy was only an imaginative way to explain the unexplainable. Perhaps I had been right all along. And my attempt to escape is left even more worthless, making this voyager all the more pitiful.

To what end?

Questions without answers will be the never-ending plague of my contorted mind. To want to live is to lie in rest. But where is rest when every moment is hounded with those same unanswered questions?

To have triumphed over the desire for death is a victory great. Never will I desire the same again. Yet even without the desire, the nightmare lurks. It taunts and jeers, luring me towards investigations which were already once my downfall.

Do I go? Do I stay? Do I give in to the beckonings? The soft voice that calls me back to the forbidden?

Within the walls of my mind, I wait. My love is by my side, ever watchful, but I cannot share this burden. To do so would be to mar the beauty of a rose, and that, I cannot willingly do. No, this remains my own trial... my own test. But without answers, where do I turn?