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Time
Tick, tick
A golden vest covers the glass.
Tick, tick
An arm stretches out made from brass.
60 pulses in a minute,
Thousands of rotations make time infinite.
Tick, tick
Spherical reflection catches endless attention,
Tick, tick
Broadening time,
Diminishing time,
Both notorious for creating a tension.
Although the brass can be wound back,
Inability to recover the time is a hardening fact.
Tick, tick
All your time will eventually come,
To reveal the depths of what you have become.
Each pulse, each minute,
Each tick from within it,
Represents the life you have already endured,
And the many more rotations that make time infinite.
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