You look upon my face and hands. I replace old falling sands. Sometimes I make a little sound. Your home is guarded by my hound. I hang or stand upon my feet. And on your wrist, I'm pretty neat.

The longer I live, the shorter I grow. When day turns to night, you welcome my glow.

I contain all the past and present, and the future will be soon. Every spoken word, every written character will be somewhere in me. I am a being of sacred knowledge, where you will discover things other people only dream of finding. What am I?

I’m a story etched in skin, a personal reason that lies within. I fade with time but never quite depart, a permanent piece of art, that lies deeply within my heart.

I stood before radar, before radio's call, a guardian through tempest and squall. By flame, by lens, by electric might, I pierced the dark with guiding light. Who am I, watching each night?