#CountdownEchoes

The clock hands waltz, a somber grace,
As seconds dwindle, time's embrace
Loosens its hold, a fading sigh,
As midnight's shadow draws nigh.
Sixty beats, a rhythmic plea,
Each tick a whisper, "Soon to be,"
A new year born, a fresh refrain,
Washing away the lingering pain.
The air is thick with anticipation,
A hush descends, a sweet sedation,
As voices cease, and hearts hold tight,
Awaiting the celestial light.
Ten… nine… eight… the...