The day the rope was cut.
                                                      
The cave releases tears at a sleeping heart rate that form a puddle of a vivid memory with each drop echoing to the depth of it's darkness.

The riddles cause flashes of past, present, unwanted, unneeded, pictures.
                                  
Within the cave lies a dweller, who is woken by the silent, slow, sound, of the agony and pain. Jelousy takes cautious sips till all images are a plain reflection of the future with no lane.