No oxygen,
No air,
How am I meant to breathe?
Nothing here,
Nor there,
I'll just sit and seethe.
You took away,
My breath,
And with it my life.
I feel I'm facing,
Death,
He's wielding his black scythe.
I just want to,
Run,
To get away from here.
Being with you is,
No fun,
I wish you'd just disappear.
Maybe I will,
Live,
To tell another tale.
Or perhaps I'll,
Go with,
Someone who doesn't make me wail.
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