• For every one thing that holds breathe, there is a sweet, sad melody played as a lullaby. That lulls it's senses into a slumber of thy purest. The slumber of the innocent, the deadly, lithe dream that becomes a mystery. Where splendid disembodiment adds a possibility of mayhem to what may become. The risk has a price. Are you willing to pay for the end of your sweet dreams and hit the horrific downfall? The memories that have tormented and stalked you for years. Here they are. Drink the sweet wine, delight in the melody, dream of tears and sorrow. Delight in the most pleasant things you can think of. For in the end you are blinded, the truth however far off, is far better than the lie of that silent lullaby.