Ephemeral Hour

In the realm of time, where moments melt like wax, A golden clock stands, its beauty on the wax, Roman numerals etched, a testament to time's flight, As it dissolves, like sand between the light. The landscape weeps, a reflection of the soul, As the clock's metal heart begins to unfold, The hands that mark the passage, now still and cold, The beauty of decay, a story yet untold. In this surreal landscape, where time loses its might, The clock's dissolution becomes a wondrous sight, A dance of light and shadow, a tale of what's past, A reminder to cherish moments that will forever last. As the clock melts away, like tears from above, The beauty of impermanence, a labor of love, In this fleeting hour, we find our own design, A moment's beauty, forever intertwined.