There was an uneasiness between his shoulder blades.
A feeling never felt before.
Not an itch needing to be scratched.
Something deeper, you just abhor.
So deep an ache from his back to his neck,
Catching his throat in a vice and a rope.
It reached forward to grasp at his heart.
Sucking air from his chest, and all hope.
It enveloped him and grabbed at his spirit.
All life and joy now left.
Disabling his prayers and ambitions.
Pulling him further to hell. Soul bereft.
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