The Clock and the Hunt

By Antony Frost

In midnight’s hush when time stands still,

The gears begin to hum their will.

A girl once dreamed with book in hand,

Then woke beneath a ticking land.

He came in brass, with velvet smile,

And walked her bones in clockwork style.

“You’ll be my doll,” the Tinkerer said,

“With golden eyes and thoughts well-fed.”

He carved her soft with blade and lore,

And wound her soul behind a door.

She danced through years that did not pass,

A perfect thing of skin and brass.

But hearts remember even gears,

And something stirred behind her tears.

She cracked the cage, she broke the chain—

And fled into the world again.

Yet freedom wears a ticking weight,

For changelings never close the gate.

The Huntsman watches, still and near,

With scent for magic, taste for fear.

So hear this rhyme and mark it well—

If midnight chimes, beware the spell.

Don’t sleep where clockwork shadows play...

Or she may take your time away.

A very special thanks to @SexyQueenFaeye for allowing me to set this in a fictional version of her Rose Academy basically the idea is this is a story within a story youll understand