In the quiet hallways of the night,
The clock whispers secrets in ticking tones,
Each moment a gentle nudge, a silent flight,
Through realms of dreams and forgotten stones.

Hands glide over numbers, a graceful arc,
Painting stories of days long past,
In each tick, a spark, a mark,
Etching memories that forever last.

Shadows lengthen as the minutes flee,
Chasing hours into the dawn’s embrace,
Yet in this dance, we find the key,
To life’s eternal, unending race.

So let us listen to the clock’s soft song,
A melody of time, both tender and strong,
In its rhythm, we belong,
As we journey through the ever-ticking throng.