What goes around comes around,
But not if that around is a straight line.
A line that goes one way, but also the other
From the same source point,
Only to merge at another.
What goes straight may not come back,
Unless the straight is a bend that goes around,
A round about a Point of Perspective,
Sweeping constant areas of Purpose,
Masked by the flux of Power.
Through Kinetika,
We always choose what we cannot escape.
Bound by Desire we decide our Deeds,
Watching That Line repeatedly go around,
And yet straight ahead.
And so,
We become,
Witnessing satellites
Willing our own wandering,
Around that Line we created by our own Measure,
Straight forth without knowing our own bend,
Going around in the illusion of the ahead,
Coming back around in reality instead
Of knowing the nature of why we follow,
What we follow in Life and Death.
What goes around may never come back,
And what goes ahead may come back around,
To grasp what holds us in Its gravity,
By making our own synced repeating ring,
About Order’s own Orbit,
That bends only by Chaos’ Curve.