Ticking echoes in the quiet night,
Time’s gentle whisper, a soft delight.
Hands move in a rhythmic trance,
In the clock’s silent dance.

Shadows elongate under moonlit skies,
As moments pass, unseen by eyes.
Each second, a silent companion,
In life’s endless canyon.

The clock’s face, a timeless guide,
Marking paths we cannot hide.
Hours fade, yet memories stay,
In the heart, they softly play.

Beneath the stars, the clock stands still,
An ancient guardian on the windowsill.
Its steady beat, a lullaby,
To dreams that soar and fly.