It's raining skulls and terrors.
						
						  Between ill-obtained breaths lies airless repose.
It is not the way things begin.
It is, aapparently, the way things end, somewhere between respiration and aspyxiation.
The silent ringing ib ine's ears, a harbinger of current times.
						
						
					  
					  It is not the way things begin.
It is, aapparently, the way things end, somewhere between respiration and aspyxiation.
The silent ringing ib ine's ears, a harbinger of current times.
