The old oak clock a perched just so
Atop the old oak shelf
Within the old oak cabinet
Tick-tocking to himself.
The old oak walls surround his face
His visage made of glass
His black as coal-like arms outstretched
His bells a made of brass.
Alone, alone, he stood alone
Without a friend to share
Ticking tocking, ‘way the time
Forever ever stare.
Years he was atop the shelf
Centuries forgot
Never minds he ticks away
His springs a close to rot.
Slower, slower, beating still
His everlasting heart
Never feeling, always ‘wake
As it’s been since start.
Listen as he clocks away
Telling you the time
Time to live, it’s time to die
Ding-dong, ding-dong, he chime.
Empty oak without a thought
Without a bleeding limb
He controls the rattling breaths
It is up to him.
This old oak clock atop the shelf
Within the old oak doors
Impossible to tell of future
Secrets that he stores.