Clockwork

Tick by tick, the gears align,

In a dance of time, so finely designed.

Each cog turns with purpose, precise,

The clockwork heart, it never strays,

Bound to its path, no time to delay.

Seconds march in ordered rows,

A constant rhythm that never slows.

Yet within the steel, there lies a spark,

A yearning for more than the dark.

To break free from the ticking bind,

And find the life outside the grind.

But time is stern, its grip is tight,

It holds the day, it rules the night.