Beetle

I fell to Earth from the light,
Landing upon my back,
Frantically propelling myself clockwise,
Upon my metallic carapace.
My legs find no handy purchase,
My world remains inverted,
Clockwise has proven to be no better,
I’m doomed to struggle until I perish.
Why do I struggle so interminably,
When it seems to be fruitless?
I live in hope for a miracle,
And I refuse to lie here and do nothing.