This tourniquet tightens
Like quicksand
In a sunscorthed wasteland
As the sun bakes the parched land
To such an inhospitable temperature
I can no longer breathe
When the pressure of coping
Strangulates me with decisions
Of love and loss
Lost within the deadly current
That is introspection
And inspiration
Which coexist
In a binary partnership
Between life and death
...
Until my last gasp
...
The hanging bell tolls