Whispers in the darkness no discernible audio, for the void absorbs all the inflection, you hear things but cant see anything, what you hear you can not comprehend as it is muted and incoherent, the psychosis of it all both overwhelming and comforting, as without it an empty shell truly alone in the abyss, drifting for eternity with no destination nor direction, escape is as simple as succumbing to the fantasy, for the hellish landscape is barren and violent, wrought horrors that would hunt most nightmares and tame most demons, yet at home with a sense of comfort, for the environment seems to complement your constant pain, your constant struggling and suffering, in a desolate existence of despair the only constant are the faint inaudible voices you hear.

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