There was a time where time had no sound
but a wavering shadow of light,
forever shackled by the whim of the moon
ceasing to exist by night.

Soon replaced by a trickling flow
a heap of desert sand,
it flowed and flowed but still it stopped
needing to start again by hand.

But then time was created anew
with gears and wheels and springs,
mechanically ticking and winding and turning
with bells and tocks and rings.

No longer does it stop or halt
or rely upon the stars,
it merely winds and turns and shifts
like wheels unto a car.

Time's undying symphony of tocks and ticks
are to our generation a treasure,
filling the world with its indefinite song
they are revolutionary measures.