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The wind blows gently at my feet.

The soft smell of decaying leafs smells sweet.

I've been here a while, for ages it seems.

I can't leave if I tried, so much like a dream.

A dream, a dream, a dream, a dream.

Oh, why can't it be a dream?

It would be simpler, but life is never what it seems.

The daily trudge of life.

Everyday we survive.

But for what reason?

The torture,

the voices,

the terrible choices.

I had no desire

to continue through this mire,

so I chose the easy way out.

So now here I am, my dear friend.

I have met my end.

I thought death would be sweet

like the decaying leafs,

while the wind blows gently at my feet,

as I hang from this tree.

But I'm so lonely.

Won't you join me?