The phrase "abyss of time" is correct and usable in written English.
It can be used in contexts discussing the vastness, depth, or complexity of time, often in a philosophical or poetic sense.
Example: "As I ponder the choices I've made, I feel as though I'm staring into the abyss of time, wondering what might have been."
Alternatives: "chasm of time" or "void of time".
The human mind, he thought, simply could not comprehend that "dark abyss of time".
It's a book that speaks powerfully to all our Caulfields, even across an abyss of time and language.
He wonders what they'd make of the cave paintings (I suspect they'd wonder why no reptiles were featured), then muses, "Are we today the crocodiles who look back into an abyss of time?" While we ponder this quintessentially Herzogian imponderable, it strikes me that there's only one serious mistake in the film.
Having no idea how long she had been away — since anything not in his immediate field of perception and attention would be lost, forgotten, within seconds — he seemed to feel that she, too, had been lost in the abyss of time, and so her "return" from the abyss seemed nothing short of miraculous.
In Darwin's work, time moves at two speeds: there is the vast abyss of time in which generations change and animals mutate and evolve; and then there is the gnat's-breath, hummingbird-heart time of creaturely existence, where our children are born and grow and, sometimes, die before us.
Her bony fingers struggle at times to reach the notes, and the piano is rather out of tune, but her memory is clear, and she brings to bear an aching, rubato-laden sense of feeling that seems to extend over an abyss of time, across the catastrophes of the twentieth century, to the glittering years before the First World War.
The abyss of endless time that swallows it all.
But it's no easy game to play, wading through those 5,000 years of our sisters' suppression, that great abyss of loss, every time.
On the two morosely startling albums that made Portishead's reputation when it came out of England in the 1990s, Beth Gibbons's voice and words were bereft and bitter, floating in music that placed vintage samples in sparse, echoey backdrops, conjuring emotional abysses and the irrevocable passage of time.
You feel Philippe's mind para-gliding, lost, into the abyss of despair at the same time as you recognise that he exploits his affliction as a way of imprisoning others.
"We either rectify things, or we run out of time to carry on skirting the abyss [and] we sink," he warned in his December 2010 speech.
