The Clockwork Cataclysm

The gears whisper secrets to those who listen closely, swirling in tides of temporal sand.

A realm where reality clicks into place, yet dissolves into fragments as soon as they align.

Among the whirs and ticks, a melody hums, ever distant yet timeless; a sonnet of disarray:

• In the heart of the Clockwork city, dreams are measured in cogs.
• Wisemen sit atop mountains of discarded clock hands, pondering the frozen time.
• Figures in the mist dance to the rhythm of oscillating seconds, their shadows eternal.

Reflect with the quartz