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Air Wheel

Black-winged fate, with iron feathers engulfs the night with mystical unknown graces. Trepidation at the doom of love is the heartfelt thunder of the crashing skies of order. The darkest depths of abysmal feeling, over-awed with infinity; evening galaxy sky overbearing my little form of humble body. I know not where this organic creature, I, belongs, nor wether grace or torture be my allotted future, yet indulge the all-fantasy, I, fearing doom, fearing fortune, flying in the fear of failure The tethered flying machine is hungry at its chains, gnawing at its wheeled feet. Bristling iron feathers of curious wheel-winged fate. .

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Next wave of Fractal Poems...	THE AIR-WHEEL The future of human transport.