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.