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by Lavvy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Poetry · Philosophy · #1878870
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Trudging through the cold, dark nothing;

On the outside I sweat feverishly but on the inside,
on the inside an empty breath enters my lungs and dwells in its acridity, frozen and unmovable

Each previous lingering breath is displaced by fresh air at a rate comparable to that at which coarse sand might escape the top chamber of any hour glass

On the inside the fortification that is my body heat is engulfed by the fulsome cold granting admission to those who once gazed longingly passed its transparent borders

The motley flow of ravenous viruses that once merely scratched at the thick glass of my immune system are now poised to blight my vital flesh in all its tenderness

On the inside my otherwise synthetic exhausted thoughts are interrupted by the staggering rhythms of cerebral pulsations that tear through my ego like the scratch of a vinyl through a thunderous hip hop beat

For brief seconds I'm rendered mentally encumbered and utterly disturbed by this eerie brain quake whose origin I put to question as it was likely the product of psychosis induced and augmented by the sting of the caustic bitter cold

As I continue on through winter’s bane I am swallowed by a holocaust
on the outside my pale skin ignites and on the inside I am destroyed by an arctic reaper
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