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?
