In the silence of the midnight hour,
The clock’s hands trace a path profound.
Each tick, a whisper of power,
In the stillness, a subtle sound.

Shadows stretch and shrink again,
As moments pass in measured flow.
Time’s embrace, a gentle reign,
In the night’s quiet, a soft glow.

The dawn breaks with a golden hue,
As seconds weave into the day.
Every chime a call anew,
To follow time’s unending sway.

And as the twilight cloaks the sky,
The clock persists its steady beat.
Reminding us, as hours fly,
That time’s voyage is ever fleet.