Why did he have to go in there? You don't go into burning houses. He should have known better.

I know this. I've been here already. I know this taste – the taste of Damascus Rose obfuscating the truth in a dim haze. They may sweep the traces from my memory, but my body remembers. These cuts speak volumes, even though my mind remains silent.

They will be back. Oh, they will be back.

Something died inside of him that day. Watching that man slip away was more than his mind was willing to handle.

Optimism is a most hopeless feeling, but I must retain it.

Centuries have passed in vain and I begin to wonder if I will ever be able to see my love again. How much longer can I sustain my life?