Tick Tock, On The Clock

Her chest has been brutally ripped open,

Bleeding oil and smelling of smoke.

You can see the worn gears

Twisting and turning slowly,

The ragged metal edges bordering the

Wound sharp from being torn apart.

Her machine heart refusing to give up.

Perhaps she won't survive,

But a Clockwork Princess is tough,

She won't die so easily.

The End

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