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  • Writer's pictureTony Frobisher



I could see the surface,

Rippling in inviting sunlight.

Yet darkness surrounded me

And I failed to breathe.

For my last breath was taken,

The day I walked away

And left the final breaths

Of others, choking in dust.

Nor did I wish to breathe,

Only stay, staring up.

Imagining a time when

The surface was life

And I had never been beneath.

I could see the surface,

Light fading with the depths

No chance of surfacing.

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