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Filthy as A Pig

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At ten o’clock, the clock struck.

Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.

The world goes by once more, and the end comes by once more.

The first had been reality.

The second, a dream.

The third, a nightmare.

The fourth, a hallucination.

The fifth and so on, a tearstained life.

The pain of a heart being carved out of your own chest still stung even after a dozen more times than needed.

A tear fell out of his eyes.

The blurry sight appeared once more.

And the dooming steps come by without a single glance.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

It happened all again.

The pain of a brain struck with a bullet. The pain of going to experience it all. The pain of losing his humanity step-by-step.

All too often now, did he try to align his fate with a different outcome.

All too often now, did he try to sever away the tragedies to come.

And all too often now, did he wish for the end to come quick.

The laughter comes and goes as it pleases. The sadness instills within the depth of his heart. The anger burns as bright as water being poured over it.

His mind churned. And his body turned.

So did the world return.

All around as a ball, and all around as the circle of life, and all around like an endless loop.

Tang-tang. Tang-tang.

The church bell rang a dozen times. And his eyes turn to the thousands of lives being renewed.

A change of pace, it had been called. And a change of fate, it shall be so.

His lungs filled with the yellow haze. And his face filled with the toxic air.

Like trees, they all go down. And like trees, many shall replace them.

In this one single day, he had died with a single smile amidst the tormented souls.

The dreams of yore shall forever be renown: a simple desire to keep oneself within the confines of a delusion. And a simple desire made known within his own nightmares.

It grows pitifully at once, yet the power of dreams gives itself the manure to flourish.

Like a poison ivy, it swivels and makes a home on the inside of his heart.

And exactly like a poison ivy, it sucks the life out of him.

Just a single tip of the balance would have enlightened him. Give him the peace he wanted. The serenity that shall be eternity.

Yet, a single tip still could turn the wrong way.

So it does.

And the clock ticks.

And the world spins.