9 Flight of remembrance, Burned away. Let me drive you to the end of the world, so I can murder you slowly. With silence, endless silence. But it ended before it began to fade and like clockwork I slip into it again. A haze. A dream, delirium. What chance to break what I create. The purest of hearts I tear apart. Inept of love, unconsciously willing to destroy. This internal cycle deplorable, can a man shed his past. Either for redemption or resolution. Revealing layer upon layer of regret, can a man overcome those trespasses against him. That turn him into stone. Or is he doomed.