I stumble.

I fail.

I fall rigth on the well and I drown.

My strenght is getting weaker, my breath is failling, my body denies any sign of struggle.

I low my arms, I'm tired to fight for something worthless, that I can't compete.

I close my eyes. The tears are carrying away all of my grief out of my soul.

I feel useless, hideous, dead inside.

My last thought.

Glad that I'm dying.

[Não faço ideia de que se trata esse símbolo nem como foi aí parar.]