The normally busy hall is silenced,
With the stopping of the clock.
His heavy pendulum runs weary;
as his heart begins to stop.
His speech is sighed and twisted
Into each lethargic chime.
His once proud peal lost
to his current muffled mime.
His tick-tock slowly falters
And blinking eyes, shut closed.
A lingering second is captured.
His ticking thoughts morose.
He whimpers and he whispers
as the whirring starts to fade.
His solid hands fall limply
and the silence starts to wane.
Each weary breath is failing,
As his exhalations now release
His feeble tick-tock mimics whimpers
As his body begs for peace.
The time too slow, the men too late,
His timeless face admits,
The once lost man was faithful,
His final voice depicts.