Orat Zeppelin X (wheel within a wheel)

The circle squares, the world turns on – in serene manifestation of the build
She folds, first and bursting open; golden hair on copper skin restricting noble
Birth or lack thereof, double chance on circumstances. In the struggle of time
We are finite, wrought in unbegotten weaving of strong lines – wrong turns –
Small fortunes. Push and shove and mortal gone asleep on shifting grounds,
The slapping of the earth about her face and graceless features. She awakes
Now, and is pregnant; Father’s seed in regnant both, the most of the Creation
Spinning wild and spitting at me. Mood that has me fighting like with like, love
With hatred – dull and as of lately always sick around the atmosphere. God says
Kneel, fear says fear me: one hundred heads think as their one body sinks, real
And appearing too thick to submerge, too loud to be taken for symbol it’s not,
Rota revelat – image imagined embellished and strange, typhon as raging on
Stillest of waves – sharpest of wheels – deadliest feelings. Rampage and reeling
From comebacks and downs, ups and repeating. Go soft and repeal me; go hard
And allow me eternal returns.

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