Here I stand, weak boughs stretched wide over this darkened land, scorched dystopia. I speak the words of sadness, barely audible, a whispered hiss through rotted teeth. This dam is crumbling under oppressive, torrential weight of time. Breaking away to reveal the truth of the great void inside. These limbs are bent under the weight of years, painful to behold. In the floodplain of life substance is sought with none to find. Living is not mine, though I carry it's heft with bent and crooked spine. Veins are as poisoned streams seeping down into groundwater. All will waste away. All will waste away. Numbness is life, life is the void. This hollow heart lies cold and still. Rivers of poison flow through these veins and into all. Here is my baseless dystopia. Here is the truth of the void. Here is the dam crumbling. Here are the currents of time. Here are the limbs broken under the weight of years. Here is the world drowning in bitterness and tears. Here is the numbness consuming. Here is the madness abound. Here are the veins poisoned and drained into the ground. Sleep will not renew. Light will not reveal. Warmth will not suffice. No release at the knife. No warmth, no light, no death, no life. All is numb. No warmth, no light, no death, no life. All will waste away. Numbness is life. Life is the void. Cold is the heart. Veins are as streams of poison.
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