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It feels like an anchor that’s attached to my soul
A weight that never lessens, only grows

This pit that contains my heart
Filled with darkness, sludge, and tar

The cobwebs numb my mind
Catching the good and wrapping it away like spiders

These all combine to make me as I am
Half alive, half dead, non living.

A waking wraith of whom I was meant to be.
A spirit condemned to haunt its final resting place.