Broken On The Wheel

A poem about the torturing nature of karma, and time.

Time is a flat circle
Nothing ever stays the same
Nothing ever goes away for real
We are mere versions
Incarnations of the same
Old same old
Wicked wizard puts us in a tube
That spits us out
Every time
Slightly altered setup

Nothing ever goes away for real
The oracle man said,
“Some people re-enter your life at pivotal points,
They never go away for real”

“You just have to trust me,”
Said the youngest one
Trust is more plentiful at that age
When we have experienced
Only few incarnations
Wicked turns of the test tube

Nothing ever stays the same
When you wish the most it did
It keeps changing
For better or worse
In sickness and health
The wheel of destiny is the same
One we´ve had our bones broken on
To be broken on the wheel means forced to
Accept that time is a flat circle
And nothing ever goes away for real

Anima Noira

Metaphysical Authoress. Harlot. Priestess. Demonatrix. Photo Model and Dangerous Writer. Keeping the Dark Arts alive is what I do, and I appreciate your support.

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