wheel of fortune/ rota fortunae

clockwork creak

of fickle Fortune

desperate clawing hands sweat on the underside, sliding, slipping, with the creek below

It pulls them up for a taste of the top

wary ascent against the plunging parallel,

ghoulish faces spread into gaping masks with the heavy weight

the burden of the return to the underside of the wheel

melancholy coin flip, kick of the spoked machine

nonchalant twirl of mighty finger on spinning wheel,

flicked with apathy

certain suffering for the unfortunate

turns at the axis but can’t roll away

sewn to the spinner until the thread is snapped with teeth

via Daily Prompt: Wheel