A riddle

"Untitled"

Turn 'round the broken spheres went,
'Round and 'round they went,
Interturning,
Intertwining,
'Round and 'round they could but go,
A split in intervals on their sides,
A flat sphere,
How one sees it,
Is anyones guess,
A sphere,
Or circle,
Yours to choose,
But they went 'round,
And pulled dem wires,
Pulled 'em and pulled 'em,
Taugh and strong yay,
'Round but slow,
Steady but efficient,
As the ax swung left and right,
Chop, chop,
Hear it go,
Left, right, left,
Chop, chop, chop,
No thunk mind you,
Just chop,
All encased in wood,
The spheres are guided by the ax,
The ax made for the spheres,
Flat spheres,
Those intertwining oddities,
And in some dream,
They are but replaced,
Projections unseen,
Save for three arrows and twelve symbols,
Shielded by glass.