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The warm, wet, darkness envelopes my eyes, My breathing slows with each chest fall and rise. Sinking deeper and further into inky black sleep,
Death is real. Seeing it up close, in the field. Love will help you feel.
I yearn for his smell.
Poison setting in the blood and mind A rush to get some help, living down the road Running down the rabbit hole fighting for his life A great loss of brother and friend, he did not make the code.
The art of saving isn’t hard to master. Just a few months of training will do. Still, The first death always feels like a disaster. We spend countless hours studying and working,