Like a wheel within a wheel

It is a wicked fate, I guess, that us Iraqis made the wheel some time before man even new time and place, and that this very wheel brought prosperity to the world and became our never ending vortex.

Take it from as far back as recorded history of our generous and bereaved land goes - some 12,000 years before the birth of one character they call Christ, who's very existence is in doubt, to date; the wheel continues to bring motion, and with it life to humanity, and bring us doom and destruction - within, in our souls, and out there, in every corner, with every weeping mother and crying child mourning the loss of not only their bread and bread winners, but their very childhood and lives.

The neglected side of this sadistic existence, methinks, is more to do with imprisonment of our souls, in a wheel, within a wheel, in a never ending cycle as the lyrics goes; it is how we love, and how we live and how we look at the world; disillusioned beings; that see a spade being a spade; that are tough even at their moments of utter dispair; never seeing things except for what they are.

And thus, I have come to see this never ending cycle, within the cycle of life, that made our paths cross, and our land what it is, giving life to the world, yet not able to break the cycle and live.  And that, my one, is how it is ..

Like the circles that you find; in the windmills of your mind.

QED.