Tick

Tick, tock, the clock does dance around it's circle.
A circle that was planned, that the clock can not end.
Nothing can stop the clock from reaching it's goal, the circle
that has long since been foretold. Around and around the
spinning shall never stop at anyone's plea. Many have tryed
to stop the clock's dance. Offering it such things of treasure
and praige. The clock must refuse for it is nothing but a
slave. Now you ask yourself what could make a slave of such
a powerful being. The being that controls everyone's life.
Well the answer is simple you see, time holds the whip that cracks
on the back of the clock. Slacking the clock's back often enough
to keep him on task. Time is a cruel master for each clock stays
in it's place, or time comes down hard and the clock seen it's last.
So now think hard about this, if the clock is just a slave, and we
a slave to the clock. Than who holds the whip that cracks on the back of time? Nothing can control this immortal. Yet there must be
something. What that of death? For even time adhears to death,
for time goes on, but death stops life. Since time can go on
forever, but what does it matter if none are there to see it. What
a chain of slavery have we seen so far, but you'd be foolish if
you think I'd stop now. For in the hands of the lowest slave
the key to all three masters seems to be, now think about that.