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.

If I sleep – will I wake from this nightmare? If not, I pray my heavenly Father will take me in my sleep.

The statues were praying – gazing into the dark domed ceiling.

I wish I could ask you how much you remember. I don't know if there will be anything left after I consume this drink.