Confess, old clock.
The ticking unravels secrets.
Hours spent in folly.
You guard a sin—
Omitted minutes of silence.
A drawer creaks. Secrets spring.
Tattered cloth. Dusty lies.
The whispers linger.
Ajust to the hours of forgotten.
Loose, floating parchment.
Stains of screen.
Documents of a life untended.
Speak up, wooden chair.
Yours is the sigh.
Cradling dreams gone brittle.
Nail-biting confessions.
Anchored protectionist.
Sought refuge—rest.
Aware of embodied echoes.
Lingering in sunlight's fractured truths.