Staring down into the depths Subconscious has taken my life Breathing this foul and dank air Eyes cannot penetrate the light No room to panic or move I pray my death will come soon.
My sorrows are breeding on my fear.
The tombs of 1000 lie near, Soon to diminish am I? Lying here, minutes from my death The nausea breeds on my fear Calling to the victims of fate The dead cannot answer my calls.
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