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In the heart of the desert, sands of time slip away, Where the ancient one chants at the break of day. His beard like a flame, his eyes aglow, A sorcerer robed in the sun's own show.
With a staff in hand, and a spell on his lips, He calls forth life with small, whispered quips. From the grains beneath, where the zephyrs sigh, A creature of gears begins to rise high.
Its eyes are like lanterns, its body a coil, Born of the earth, yet resembling toil. It winds and it turns, a serpent of steel, A marvel of magic, almost unreal.
The sorcerer's power, in the air so thick, Crafts life from metal, quick and slick. Around them the remnants of a time long gone, As the creature and mage greet the dawn.
A dance of sparks, in the morning light, They conjure wonders far from sight. In this place where the world's edges fray, The clockwork and magic hold their sway.

Description

more images on nadavrock.com/
Explore My Store: Order Real-World Designs nadavrockprints.com/

In the heart of the desert, sands of time slip away, Where the ancient one chants at the break of day. His beard like a flame, his eyes aglow, A sorcerer robed in the sun's own show.
With a staff in hand, and a spell on his lips, He calls forth life with small, whispered quips. From the grains beneath, where the zephyrs sigh, A creature of gears begins to rise high.
Its eyes are like lanterns, its body a coil, Born of the earth, yet resembling toil. It winds and it turns, a serpent of steel, A marvel of magic, almost unreal.
The sorcerer's power, in the air so thick, Crafts life from metal, quick and slick. Around them the remnants of a time long gone, As the creature and mage greet the dawn.
A dance of sparks, in the morning light, They conjure wonders far from sight. In this place where the world's edges fray, The clockwork and magic hold their sway.