How long am I to feel this way?
To be without a purpose; without a life. I am a dead man walking alone. I have no drive. No passion in my heart. I am inanimate. descending deeper and deeper into an existence that is not worth living for. The world that I am on is empty and the gravity is strong. My fingers feel like lead. My feet feel as though blood is pooling at the bottom. My head is deteriorating. The whole of my body is hollow; it is a husk of what it once was. My heart is rotting. In this lonely world, there is only mourning.
Morning never comes. It is always dark and groggy. the air is stale and smells of mold and mildew. Any structure of size is overshadowed by towers of darkness. Black clouds from the ground to the sky. Drilling ever deeper into the core of my world. I fear that it might reach the center. I know my world will crumble when it does.
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