Ephemeral Hourglass

In the realm of time, where moments melt like wax, A clock stands tall, its form in flux and decay. The Roman numerals, a testament to the past, As the hands of time, like skeletal fingers, grasp. The clock's face, a glowing orb, serene and bright, Yet, its body, a melting mess, a surreal sight. The surrounding landscape, a reflection of the soul, A body of water, where time's essence makes its role. The sky above, a kaleidoscope of hues, A dance of colors, as day succumbs to night's muse. In this dreamlike scene, time loses its might, As the clock's melting form, becomes a wondrous sight. A symbol of the transience, of life's fleeting pace, A reminder to cherish, each moment, each sacred space. For in the melting clock, we see our own demise, And the beauty of the present, in the ephemeral surprise.