All The Clocks Go On and On

All the clocks go on and on,
With the time's withering bloom;
White pedals in clearings done,
Nothing to predict or assume.

Silence of nightfall will come,
In clearings of stars collide;
Who knows where time's from,
And what past hours applied.

All is in the numbers to fall,
Enormous forever eternity;
The clearings in time will call,
When past settles down to be.