precipitous

How did a mistake cause this destruction?

What faculties of my story did I employ to result in such a failure of fate?

Such precipitous moments that have such massive gravity.

The language of my soul colliding with a velocity of madness and misery.

Be gone from me, go and be gone.

Such faults fade and I am slowly rising from my grave.

Be gone and hasten your departure.

As I touch ground with feet and legs standing, I am soon to seek you out.