Debt

Oh, what an awful tone.
Lift, and it grows heavy like a stone.
But, surely these hands cannot be my own.

Drone. Drone.

Discern barely a notion
of some eminent and pointless emotion.
Is my lament really as vast as this ocean?

Devotion. Devotion.

A groping of death at my shoulder
with each second growing colder.
Lying under the weight of this boulder.

Smolder. Smolder.

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