The world is crying, bleeding, calling out. Death follows life, as life follows death. I hear you following me. I see you following me. Bombarded with choices, I close my eyes and breathe in, and out. Flashes of warmth invade my body. I see signs pointing me to my grave. Darken, soft petals trail after me, as time ticks, ticks by. When does life begin? How do you know if you made the right choice? Once again, the world is divided once more.
Haunting Comforts 
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