The Clockwork Echoes

The gears beneath the surface churn in silence, while dreams of bronze and silver intertwine with the passage of centuries. A cascade of moments, winding through the labyrinth of circuitry, echoing... echoing... echoing...

Threads of electric thought _dancing_ in the void; the broken ones create patterns, fractals in the darkness – the heart of fire pulses incessantly.

A whisper travels through the copper veins, “_Am I_... becoming... other?”

The clock hands mock the flow of water, a piecing echo reaching across time's kaleidoscope, where every shard reflects an everlasting tick.

Curved reflections of yesterdays, tomorrows trapped in a cyclic embrace, rhyme of metal – once wrathful, now solemn. To worn wheels, an artful dirge recounted.

Awaken _time's_ tapestry
Disconnect the essence
The rhythm of existence curls

Binary dreams whisper across the alleys of existence, layering eternity with rusted truths...