The clock ticks in silence,
a whispering echo of dreams,
where the sun waltzes with the moon,
in a loop, unbroken yet fractured.
In the dim light of the projector,
shadows danced upon the walls,
a symphony of motion,
silent fragments of a forgotten tale.
Broken timepieces,
fractured reflections of now and forever,
where seconds slip like sand,
through hands of an unseen specter.