The Guardians of the Melting Clock:

Shrunken heads upon the bed,
Listening intently to what I said.
The melting clock remembers what is lost,
But then they talk.
Without their feet,
They still walk.
The lampshade, an eerie bog.
And what was once a door is a shadow.
There it is, no more.
Within the fog more heads creep.
For this I fear I'm not asleep.
Taking a breath too deep.
Standing here trembling.
Weary and weak.
Yet I muster the strength to speak.
"Who are you? How do you walk? What secrets do you keep?"
The silence stretches, then a raspy whisper escapes one of the heads.
"We are the watchers... the guardians of lost time...the keepers of the dead"
A shiver crawls down my spine.
Guardians? Of lost time?
Again the head whispers in a voice raspy and deep.
"Twist the hands of fate and turn back time. Reset and rewind the clock till half past nine."
I reach to turn the clock's hand back.
A monstrous form stirs from within the crack.
Beneath the bed, where shadows creep.
A thing of nightmares, long asleep.
The guardians cackle, cold and fell.
"We watch, we wait, for time to tell! To see if thou can escape our spell."
My fingers brush the rusted hand.
The clock face melts like shifting sand.
The whispers echo, warped and shrill.
Is this real, or is it my will?
The shadows writhe, the figures bend.
My sanity begins to rend.

The Whispering Room:

In the dark from a shrunken head.
I heard a raspy whisper and it said.
“When you lose your peace of mind.
walls crash down with you inside.
so, sever ties.
from those who fed you lies.
open eyes.”
I'm sick inside this twisted mind.
Here I am laying on the floor watching as these walls transform.
This room became my storm.
These walls chill me to the core.
Walls of the bones.
My old homes cascading to the floor.
The lights begin to flicker both waxing and waning.
Bright and fading.
Collapsing into shadows of the past.
Of monstrous forms these shadows cast.
Torn to pieces, cut and bleeding.
My skin is like a canvas ripped apart.
Shredded by the monsters in my heart.
I clutch the floor, a broken doll.
Lost in the madness, sanity's thrall.
No haven here, these walls confine.
A chilling echo, "This is mine."
Locked in a prism, trapped inside my mind.
From a clock comes the call.
An ordinary clock?
Not at all.
The hands bending, clock melting.
I see the writing on the wall.
Half past nine, ends my fall.
To repeat this doom is my downfall.
The flickering light reveals their forms.
These monsters carved from bygone storms.
Not shadows cast, but creatures real.
With eyes that pierce and hearts that steal.
They clutch the hands that bent the clock.
Their laughter echoes, a sickening shock.
These architects of misery.
Twisted my fate for their glee.
Now trapped within this mind's confine.
Their twisted game, forever mine.
No chance of dawn, no hope remains.
Lost in madness, pleasure to their pains.
For they to have twisted the hands of fate.
They made the same mistake.

Devourer of Time:

Clutching whispers slither and crawl.
The guardians' laughter echoes in the hall.
Mocking echoes laced with a dreadful chill.
They weave nightmares deep within the sleeper's head.
Time itself, a captive, held by a silken thread.
Within the Melting clock, where sanity bled and memories fled.
Ticking whispers pronounce a haunting curse.
The guardians cackle, their malice ever worse.
Born of malice, a cruel and twisted design.
Fate's puppeteers, their pleasure entwines.
Half past nine, the witching hour strikes near.
No escape found, trapped within their sphere.
Their painted eyes, like pools reflecting the deepest night.
Hold a fragment of fading light, a flicker faint and slight.
A memory surfaces, bittersweet and with a sting.
A pact I made, a forbidden thing.
The clock ticks faster, a relentless, chilling chase.
Half past nine reveals a darker face.
The guardians shift, their laughter fades.
Replaced by hunger and whispers filled with pains.
The melting clock, a monstrous maw that is gaping wide.
Unhinges further, a sightless gnaw to hide.
Time devours all, the memory fades from sight.
Swallowed whole by the very thing that gave it life's light.
Silence descends. The shadow's coil and fume.
Is this the end? Or a darker, deeper doom?
A single eye, within the void's embrace.
Watching, waiting, for a chance to take its place.



Into The Maw:

The whispers fade, a chilling hush.
The guardians gone, devoured in a crush.
The single eye, a burning ember.
Glares down, a hunger I remember.
A hunger not for time, but souls.
To feed the beast that takes control.
My pact, a twisted, wicked thing.
Fueling the horror it would bring.
The melting clock, a yawning maw.
A gateway where sanity has a flaw.
Each tick, a life force sucked inside.
Trapped in the void, nowhere to hide.
The formless dread, a monstrous guest.
Feasts on my essence, and puts me to the test.
My screams unheard, a silent plight.
Lost in the hunger's endless night.
But wait. A flicker in the void.
A desperate hope, quickly deployed.
To break the chain, a gruesome cost.
A final pact, forever lost.
The eye, it watches, sightless and vast.
A silent pact, a hunger unsurpassed.
I feed the beast with all I hold.
My very soul, a story untold.
The endless hunger, now appeased.
The burning eye, its hunger ceased.
A hollow shell, where I once stood.
Consumed by darkness, misunderstood.
The formless dread, a sated guest.
Sleeps in the void, at last at rest.
But in the silence, soft and deep.
A single whisper, secrets to keep.

Echoes In the Void:

The silence stretches, thick and cold.
A single ember, a story untold.
A flicker of light, a watchful eye.
Observes the void where dreams can die.
A new arrival, lost and afraid.
Stumbles within, by whispers betrayed.
The melting clock, a monstrous grin.
Ticking ever closer, drawing them in.
I surged forward, a wisp of smoke.
Yearning to warn, my voice now broke.
A frantic whisper, lost in the air.
Desperation hangs heavy, a silent prayer.
The pact binds me, a chilling truth.
The endless hunger, my consuming youth.
The new victim listens, drawn to the call.
Unaware of the fate that awaits them all.
The clock ticks faster, a merciless pace.
Sealing their doom with a cold embrace.
The laughter echoes, a haunting refrain.
As another soul falls, trapped in this hell inside the void of time.
The melting clock explodes at half past nine. Leaving the swallowed souls frozen in time. But the clock ticks on.
The silence stretches, thick and cold.
A single ember, a story untold.
Shrunken heads upon the bed.
Listening intently to what I said.
~ZyhrenSong~

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