Logophobia

Water poured down over his head, hands, and feet. It filled his lungs with joy, his mind with clarity. He threw back his head, the water sealing him in the cavern. His coffin. There would be no escape for him. He would not need escape, simply rest. Still, how can he rest without relieving himself of life.

Run my good friend, run until your lungs burst, until your head explodes, until your legs disintegrate. All that waits for you in the cave is life. Forever.

What greater curse?