He lives in a world of disapproving eyes. Everywhere he looks, he meets the glare of judgemental eyes, consumed with feelings of inadequacy, digested by no meaning of significance. He is attacked by the construct of one's iniquity. He curses each one's iniquity, in spite of repetitive criticisms of an apostrophe. The demeaned and persecuted are beaten with the cracks of the wicked one's evil tongue. In bondage of such iniquity, their backs are scarred with the demonic influence of these words, their faces absorbing salty tears, their eyes raining with shame and sorrow.
He lives in this dark world. Man is blind of this bondage — blind of the despicable, polluted world that they have created from artificial items — the black waters consuming their souls, the dying grasslands consuming their morals, the grey skies consuming their sight. This world in which he lives in is dark; no colour exists in this hell.
Everyone he sees holds hands with aversion, searching for vengeance, and growing weak with unnecessary grudges. He witnesses the bombing of their properties with grey, nuclear iniquity, and the formulated smoke blinding their eyes. He looks upon the skies and sees only darkness, for they have polluted his eyes and became blind... Just emptiness left within a dark realm.
He lives within a black hole, light completely unable to escape. He remains to have hope of their liberating realisation of the insignificance of their species' existence. Disturbed minds erupt, and there is no hope left; he calls for hope no more. All that is dark and consists of iniquity meets in the very aspect of their eyes.
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