No wonder it is spinning 

No wonder why it has serrated edges

No wonder it’s a wheelers fantasy

No wonder why it is faster than a blink

No wonder why its finer than a vermilion 

No wonder why it’s lethal to a visceral foe

No wonder why his head is polarised

No wonder why his eyes are his firmament 

No wonder why he is a fissure of last kind

No wonder why his gaze is a gourmet

No wonder why he eats away his pain

Sardonic, Sedantic, Semblances of him

Sojourn, Sophomore, Silence of his

I wonder why he is episodic and ephemeral 

Floating and Filamental, this age

Following his Fist and Fury, foliage of times