The Tunnel

There is light,
End of the tunnel,
Deep breaths,
It keeps coming to you,
Recedes as if its part of you,
Not one of hope,
But the one with a rope,
With every tunnel that goes down in smoke,
Death nooses life tightening its choke,
With every discarded stub,
Destiny stabs you from inside,
To finally succumb to a slow suicide.

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