Dear Razorblade,
Years of crimson-laced ecstasy emanates from your sharpened cold steel. Numbness has never hurt so much nor emptiness been so abundant with hate. Ignorant bliss is out of reach and I am too far-gone to be saved. The point of no return can be seen in the not too distant future, beneath the blinding light of the horizon. Once I reach the end of my fate, I will throw myself at your mercy and slowly watch the sun set on this broken life, which will cease upon my untimely demise. As the sun embarks on its nightly endeavour towards ephemeral death, I will surrender my body, my being, my life and my all to the clouds, which purge the earth of the suns nourishment. This night, I lay beneath the stars, shining beacons of radiance, which illuminate the darkness of the lifeless night sky. In desperation I will grasp at my remaining strands of sanity, only to be weakened by fate’s sharp touch, severing my residual attachment to the earth. Death’s shadow is cast on me as I stand
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