If one would ask... there is no answer that could be given to satisfy those of a curious nature... for there isn't one.  Under imagined hope of possibility I allowed myself to believe perhaps "this too shall pass". Each moment is but a mechanical existence... For that which I have lost, can never be found. The illusion of its' existence drips through me through an IV ... though I know I will never obtain its' design. When there is nothing more to be said... when the story has ended... you are forced to see the very thing you so desperately hoped would no longer be there.... but there it is... it's no longer just a passing thought. The sanctuary which cradled the hope I once relished...  has instead become deceitful reminders of that which I can never hold. It has poisoned my thoughts and robbed me of my most valued possession. The tragedy of realizing that which has happened pales in comparison to that of acceptance...