Cannot move through this.
My soul, my heart, bare all
and cannot subsist;

and in a single gasp
death comes; death is.

Doomed with violence,
cruel without renewal
I cannot move through

this hell that toils
the mind, the heart
and I am left, to perish

through this. The chosen
journey was the destination
at which the soul arrived;

and to the heart, failure it was.
We could not have known.
Emanation weaved the end.

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