At the point
when breaths axphixiates,
anamnesis appear like
a glint of flame.
Like the dust,
forming a cloud,
strolling like a smog,
for I knew I have millions
of breaths more to take.
While the breaths threaded,
rattled, and tormented.
I am only a shell,
held with the agony
going through the
dull walls within,
the pieces moving.
I am finally summoned
to give in,
drowned in the
smog filled cavity of my chest.
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