The buzzing of the train,
The thumping of the rain.
The jingling of the keys,
The blowing of the trees.
Are all signs to tell me,
Life will eventually cease to be.
The thudding of feet,
The drumming of a beat.
The tick-tock of the clock,
The thudding of the rock.
All seem to tell,
Life won’t end well.
The screaming of a mouth,
The creaking of a house.
The ringing in my ears,
The shocking waves of fears.
All sound threatening,
Like the ended ring,
Of a timed reality.
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