Falling leaves, a wrecked jetty, and a sinking boat: What else is life going to throw at me? A final inhale, a final farewell to oxygen, a final surrender to oblivion. A deliberate lack of everything The lack of air is sickening and desolate, poor and despairing, and it tears at my aching lungs and vacant head. Call me a vagabond, a traveler caught up in the paranormal.
My breath is taken away from me. The emptiness within me resonates with the living and the dead. My soul's sonorous and assonant shouts forth in increasing volumes. My eyes start to flutter and then fade away.
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