Continental Drift

Slow and accurate
over the fields where the first fossils were formed
The pendulum sways like a dead arm
I hear you here,
resonating from your shine
Blazing the veins of the sun
you are viewing the great world
The visuals of your sounds resound
throughout all our known abysses
And floats around in the magma chamber
Toils with what’s forgotten
as all our craters are formed
The slowest (there is), the continents drifting
underneath the crusts of our deserts