Love is a clock

Here is a poem that I just wrote. It fails miserably to grasp the feelings that I am trying to convey. But such is the reality of articulating grand concepts. Notwithstanding;

For the time being
We clearly remain
Bones sing
Cymbals clang
And I will become
For what I was made
History repeats
Cycle pervades

Repeating for all
To see the set
The shrill design
In a night dim lit
Shadows from small flame
Sing about this game
History repeats
Knowledge deplete

Can you not see
Or rather feel
The stars at night
The maker's quill
Return at last
To the source of soul
The spiritual set
The cycle glow

Harmonious hum
Efficient machine
A key to a lock
Door shut for an age
For all that is naught
And not that is all
I'd rather give
Myself to the call

When we were made
In the eve of forethought
After infinite love
The world wrought
Can we achieve
Can we meet
History repeats
Eventually complete