It's been a month since I've had liquor. My sweet one, why do you leave me? I don't want this pain anymore, Please let me escape it. I don't think I'll survive long My aid has now been ruptured and torn. I'm not free of you, I want your sweet return, Another lullaby to pass the time as if I'm young Please come back I can't do this anymore I miss you so much, please one more time for me Don't let me forget you My memories so entangled without you Where do you go now? One more sip please I beg of you Cheers for my success, aid for my pain Pretense when I smile, an end when it rains I want to die without you my love I will be no more
"I don't know how much longer I have," he said, cigarette in hand, lit by the blaze of the sun's rays as it set off into the west.
Nightfall was approaching rapidly, and the darkness seemingly increased exponentially as the sun bolted away from the man out of fear. It was a low and downtrodden Sunday evening, a foggy day had occurred, and the whispers and bells from the early church morning service still rang in the man's ear.
"Don't give up man," his friend responded, and though the response was very performative and shielded, the performance came from a place of genuine care and empathy.
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