A Spinning Wheel it was,

in the alcove of the hall

From far away, it gawked like a forlorn old doll

It was coated in dust, and its wheel had driven still

For no one had wriggled on it ever since it had the will

The wheel of life seemed shattered, to speak of fate

Each one is an inkling of how vigour can be great

But the whirl had grown still, almost like a forgotten tale

It was the upheaval of bliss, love, and laughter

To some, it transpires as a symbol of disaster

But it was a relic of the urge and envied

And to some, it may come off as a moment of cries

But the wheel of life kept talking around

Wriggling us all in its tangled mesh of profound

Like a cruel wheel that swerves us around

But brings us amusement for a lifetime of sound

The circle of life is what cultivates to keep us here.

The circle of time on earth is something eternal present.

Despite how arduous it might sometimes be,

It invariably replenishes our lives with glee.

~Inky Niks

India