Eternal Melting Hour

In the realm of time, where moments slip away, A golden clock stands, its essence fraying, Like autumn leaves on ethereal strings, The fragments of reality start to unravel and cling. In this surreal landscape, where the fabric of time is torn, A serene lake reflects the sky's fiery scorn, The clock, a sentinel of hours lost, Drips with the weight of memories the cost. As the sun dips below the distant hills, The sky is set aflame with orange thrills, The clock's face, a beacon in the fading light, Guides us through the twilight's eerie sight. In this dreamlike scene, where time dissolves, We find ourselves lost, yet strangely resolved, For in the melting hour, we see our own fate, A reflection of life's ephemeral state.