The Pendulum

A pendulum, in its silent sweep, ponders The way of life it chooses for the grandfather clock, Infinite moments marked by measured swings, A dance through time, precise and steady. With each swing, it contemplates its role, A ceaseless metronome in the grand design, Each tick and tock, a heartbeat in the clockwork, A rhythm echoing the universe's pulse. Does it desire the freedom of unruly rhythms, Or the structure of uniform, measured beats? In its oscillations, it muses on purpose and fate, Balancing between order and chaos. The pendulum, an oracle of time, For in its silent swings, it holds the wisdom, Of existence's delicate balance, tried and true. Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock...... Regenerate