\"frozen clock\"
Above rot, its high, encrusted dial
keeps witness with blind, unblinking face;
and tarnished hands frozen in their stall
as rust creeps to swallow up its brace.
It counts no hours, yet bears a slow collapse
of gears that grind but never catch their clasp—
the weight of dust packed thick beneath the rim,
the sag of metal bowed at every limb,
the quiet choke of springs that strain and split
until its whole frame settles into grit.
.