The abyss is eternal, dark, and all consuming. In this abyss, I was created; in this abyss, I abide. I stay because I can not escape. I see brief flashes of bright hope far above but they are so fleeting I can not grab and hold onto them. The abyss is my home, but also my prison. I hate it in the abyss, but it is all I know. The source of myself is the source of my agony. Would escape really be good? I do not myself know this answer, and the possibilities of that question terrify me more than the abyss ever has. So for now I wait and watch, for now I am the beast of the abyss.