It's viscus, choking fog,
permeating everything.
Old bonds formed through
comradre years
shrivel and burn,
covered by acidic sweat.
The faster you try to run,
the more it cirles,
closing in until,
you jerk, stop,
there's nowhere to go.
The leftovers,
picked apart,
bodies left as carrion,
lives that ran as chains through time,
broken link by link.
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