Clockwork Heart
Turn the key, ignite the flame,A soul of iron, scarred by shame.Clockwork dreams,
lost in time’s embrace,In his gaze, a story etched on his face.
Through steam-choked skies, he climbs alone,
a shadow bathed in red,The echoes of a thousand lives still whisper through his head.“For what am I
if not this cage, a body built of grief,A timeless frame of endless pain,
denied the gift of relief?”
His metal hands reach through the haze,
his eyes a hollowed spark,In the ticking of his heart’s refrain,
he walks through endless dark.Clockwork man, forever turning,
lost to the rhythm’s art,The steam may rise, the world may fall,
but never his clockwork heart.