Infinite

Strident cogs beneath the crust,
Incessantly turning irons robust.
Anchored deep amidst the core,
Within the seams, times allure.

Each piece in sync persistent measure,
Well-oiled, fluent sequence unmeasured.
Time instilled upon the soil,
The skies, the land, our lives in coil.

Interminable, relinquishing empathy of loss,
It moves without question regardless of cost.
Written in the sand, the mountains, the dawn,
It grinds instinctual through happiness and mourn.

Each part entwined, fitted for purpose,
Unable to rewind for personal surplus.
Stentorian bellows captivate,
Bestowed with age, orchestra of fate.