
Fate can be a teller of fortunes Some of riches and others of fools gold We sit in the cocoon of its shaky hand Blindly relying on a path already foretold It plays with our lucky dice of chance When we find ourselves in places meant to be Sometimes we lose sight in moments of doubt It whispers in dreams of what we need to see It's hard to see while always moving forward Until the day we look back at the map we made Every destination had it's unseen purpose Finally making sense of the game fate has played

You must be logged in to post a comment.