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The Clock of Death

The clock is ticking on the wall.
Faster, faster, as time never stalls.
Tick, tick, boom , boom.
This is the sound of the bomb in your room.

You are pacing.
Your heart is racing.
The fingers misplacing
The coffin you’re facing.

Time

doesn’t



stop





nor






does








the




clock

Death is approaching
Here comes the train
See Death’s bone fingers grasp your chains
To trip and humiliate you as you take your last steps
To Death

The

ticking,



booming,





bombing,








racing










clock is the only thing left.





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