Shrivelling

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Lethal oblivion.

Bland kiss.

Torn book pages.

Wilted rose petals.

Starless midnight.

Lethal oblivion in which the indigent wretch craves only to sink into Morpheus' arms, his cherished salvation.

Things are such tediously slothful.

How could it be that slow ?

Oblivion.

Oblivion.

Oblivion.

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