In the quiet room where shadows play,
The clock whispers secrets of the day,
Its hands move gracefully around the face,
Marking moments in a silent, endless race.

The tick-tock echoes in the heart’s chamber,
As dreams and memories softly linger,
Each second a gentle reminder of the past,
Where fleeting moments are forever cast.

The clock’s rhythm sings of life’s embrace,
A dance of time we all must chase,
Yet in its ticking, a subtle grace,
Guiding us through this earthly space.

As night descends and stars align,
The clock continues its grand design,
A guardian of time’s vast expanse,
In its whispering ticks, we find our chance.