It keeps turning
With gears, sometimes without
It makes nonsense
Of even the senses, while it tries
To make some sense
It unfolds, very much like a rumpled skirt
It roars like a thousand waves, in caves
Of cannibals, devouring themselves
It is a wheel, that is and yet is not
A wheel, it is that we have and yet
Must lose
....what a funny thing, life is
