Does matter not the 'why'?

A fog has slowly settled upon my spirit. Dense with chill, it provokes tension within me. A fear of all I cannot see through it's opacity rumbles in my belly, a beast waking. Though the time is fine, rain comes, rain goes, floods have not yet risen to destroy, so why? I ask, why? To sleep to perish, or to cry? Wither slowly & die? Tomorrow's rain or brightening sun, none can burn this fog undone. Does matter not the 'why'? For a cure then, cry these eyes, cry.