and what must I do? If the time comes where, the voice that has yet to fail me, decides not to speak up next time. Can I have faith that just I could save me?. I don't know. So may I always have faith, in the delicate whispers, trying so often to mask out my violent waves. And may the least I can do is try, for nobody has shown me love, like the delicate whispers who only visit on the most sinister nights.