They say deep in the hearts of men,
Behind the doors of flesh and imagination,
Nestled in the fabric of time and permanence,
There exists a Clock.

Locked away in the palace of each Soul’s making,
In an endless place where many sovereigns reign,
But one where there is no line of succession,
Nor holy anointment…

A place of nightly arrival and permanent rest, 
Abounding with memories and hopes alike, 
To entertain, to foretell, to dream, and to fascinate.

It is the home of Truth,
Of all that Is,
Of all that Was, 
And everything that will Never Be.

But you’re not supposed to be here, are you?