Crushed

The ticks of the clock falls from the flow of eternity and breaks, awakening the deep worries buried within the deepest corners of the ignorant soul.

The consistent tries to make thing work in a fascinating way has turned into an effective tool to craft lines on the present so that tears find their ways to the murky waters of deception and self torture.

No thought is pure enough to surface the mind and break the door that locks the real spirits within the one spirit. A whole world locked within me is ready to fade and become one boring lonely speck of nothingness. So why there is 33 spots i cannot locate in my heart? are they the dwindling lifespan on my human spiritual progress? or is the self timer about to awaken me when i am in my deepest state of infused anesthesia?

Dreams are blackened by the happy moments that are drawn on the window of soul indulgence and crippled satisfaction.

There is no ending to my train of thoughts that flow through my brain to leave me paralyzed with bits of imagination that realty envies so much that it dreads and fears.

Born addicted, then became addicted once more to the beauty of unattainables.

The body rest in peace while the mind goes into a deep stage of epiphany about unseen unreality.

I am loving it,

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