The Clockmaker's Heart

Tick-tock, the clock sings, a dirge for the lost,

Each gear a memory, forever embossed.

The clockmaker weeps, tears of liquid gold,

As love slips through cracks, a story untold.

His heart, a rusted pendulum, swings out of phase,

Haunted by phantoms in moonlit daze.

Tick-tock, the echo, a lover's last sigh,

Trapped in the clockwork, a love doomed to die.

He winds the hands back, yearning to chase,

The fading embrace, a love out of place.

But shadows lengthen, and gears grind in pain,

Tick-tock, the reminder, love lost in the rain.

Will the clock stop ticking, find solace in sleep?

Or forever mourn, secrets the hours keep?

In the workshop of echoes, where time stands still,

A fractured melody, love's broken will.