Do What Is Good.

Crystallized logic postured, the cogwheels chug in motion.

I get it now.

I'll never run away from You again.

Neither will I attempt to cut You off again.

The Skedaddle is no more.

There's nary a mite of goodness in that.

With each attempt, the column would break into regimented pieces and its fragments felicitated while You beckoned with sweet words of fancy ad captandum.

Slinking away in Silence only inflicts anguish on my mantle.

Alea Jacta Est - Yes, it would be doing the Right Thing but it would not suffice. On the fringe of consciousness, it only persists in stubborn anoesis.

All my life, I've been fastidious in the dogmatic pursuit of a singular tenet - Do The Right Thing.

Finally, the adumbration as such has shaken off its shroud.

Precipitated sentience effects thus - Do what is Good.

So....Yes, I'll Stay. =)