A golden chain, a whispered chime,
Encircles echoes lost in time.
Its face adorned with Roman grace,
Each tick a ghost in velvet lace.
Etched in brass, the hours gleam,
Like fragments of a distant dream.
The hands, they dance—so soft, so slow—
Across the stories time won’t show
A golden chain, a whispered chime,
Encircles echoes lost in time.
Its face adorned with Roman grace,
Each tick a ghost in velvet lace.
Etched in brass, the hours gleam,
Like fragments of a distant dream.
The hands, they dance—so soft, so slow—
Across the stories time won’t show
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