Chapter of Sorrows

The epitome of my abyss
Deep, dark haze of shattered hopes and broken dreams collectively compiled
These mushroom clouds of death linger,
eagerly awaiting my near fall to sweep my failure amidst my entire world
My entire surroundings
And swallow me whole
It’s useless to fight it, for each victory is only temporary
An optical illusion to a land of joy which I am not permitted
Each rock hurdled over finds its way back onto my path
Its sharp edges and slick like surfaces ready to trip me as I stagger towards any source of light, of nourishment, of protection from the shadow of myself
My enemy is persistent


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