mere words are nothing to this feeling.
a sinking peace.
all breath being ripped away.
and my existence is compressed
into this form of a lifeless shell.
every thought is poison to my mind.
and trust is something far from spoken,
when decay walks and dead are awoken.
torn, i look to sit within this,
tunnel of spacial abyss.
but whispers scream to reach out,
for the hope of a hand.
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