I am point source, singular. Charged, oh yes, and ever negative. And I am trapped, ceaselessly trapped in a bouncing match around a planet I can never reach. I have my energy, which plummets me forward, downwards, tumbling and dashed, speeding so that I should crash.  All I need, salvation in seed, is a single collision, and I am free, given the new energy I need for freedom; till that glorious day, I am trapped by my own energy, perpetually trapped.

Entrained am I, enmeshed. By nature, driven, compelled.  I can taste the magnetics, feel it's power course through me, and my negativity forces me to turn. Always I turn, but never can I escape the tugging of the magnetics, so I sit and spin, circles-after-circles. Round-and-round.

Fall in do I, free fall, as I spin around, around. I am turning as I fall, so that I spiral down. Freefall. But as I get closer to the planet, the magnetics surrounding me becomes more and more powerful, so I must turn, faster, faster. No deliverance, because I only have so much energy, trapped as I am, with no way to gain or lose. So as I spin faster, my plummet turns to featherfall, as I am drained of all forward motion, as if the planet were forcing me back out into space, rejected, hated. Slower and slower my dive, as faster and faster I spin, dizzy spin.

Eventually, so strong is the magnetic pull, so close am I, that I can smell the destroying air, waiting to readily embrace me within fiery glow. But ever am I forced away by my ever faster spinning. Until my descent ceases. All my energy, every last drop, my entirety is pushed into a whole giddy existence, but still there, in the recesses, there remains a memory of the force that stopped my descent, so that I flicker upwards, a gentle nudge, wisping breeze. And then my spin is all wrong, churningly wrong, and I feel the intense power of the magnetics ever so gently fade, so my spin declines. Just ever so slightly. And as it slows, so the gentle updraft that pushes me upwards ignites. That frail force drains the power from my spin, and so I begin to fly upwards, ever outwards, and the force of the spin-inducing magnetics disappears with it, powering more and more of my energy into my updraft, and I see the beautiful planet fly away from me. Upwards spiralling. Onwards and aloft, until once more I fly speeding, curving, along the magnetic line. But as I spiral, my fate remains unsealed, because I know, when I reach out far beyond the planet's exquisite fragrance, I will slowly turn, and begin to plummet back, downwards, tumbling and dashed. Mirrored. Trapped. Perpetually awaiting the destructive release.