Clock.

A clock hangs at my wall, dark and gold, unaffected. And this clock is my enemy.

I dread the time it shows me, coercing me to some place where I don't belong. I dread the hour it strikes, making me yearn for that one time when I shall be complete. I dread every move of the spike, as it separates me from life.

Looking at this clock hanging on my wall, dark and gold, unaffected, I wait in hope, for hope is all that is 'a clock life'. Till this clock strikes my hour....

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