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