If I Can’t Scream, How Will You Know The Agony I’m In. As Reality Folds So Does Time, But What Is It About This Feeling That Is So Familiar, Why Do I Seem To Be Reliving The Same Sequences Of Lamentation, And How Is It That The Rain Falling From The Sky Sears Through My Skin And Flesh. If Death Never Comes Am I Doomed To This So Called Reality, Where All I See Is The Faceless, Where All I Hear Is Screams, But Salvation Is Out Of Reach, Hope Is But A Phantom Of My Shattered Psyche Which Is Slowly Dripping It’s Divine Liquid Until It Submerges My Being And I Descend Back Into The Torment Of Absence.