This is Lugia's Poetrydex entry.


Tick, tock,
The teterrimous beating
Of a clock,
In existence depleting.

For the only pendulum
I can find,
Is the one that swings,
Within my mind.

Swing, swing,
So incessantly,
Tick, tock,
The insanity...

When every movement,
Could start a thunder storm,
You feel like your muscles
Are locked, uncomfortably warm.

Like you're made of springs,
That you're movements have repercussions,
That destroy all the things,
Winds beating strong as steel percussions,

You isolate yourself,
Hope you can be happy,
But happiness is scarce,
At the bottom of the sea.

Tick, tock,
The pressure is breaking me,
Tick, tock,,
Physically and mentally,

The oceans are so still,
They do not quiver or shake,
And if I don't get excitement soon,
I'm going to fucking break.
Tick, tock,.