What is fate, dear reader?
Fate, the master of destiny's weave,
A force that rules, so hard to perceive.
Guiding my steps, I couldn't stray,
My fate was set; I had no say.
He tugs at my strings with ruthless glee,
I dance and spin, but I’m not free.
I think I'm in control, but fate knows best,
I am a mere pawn in his cosmic quest.
He steals a life; he takes a dream,
He twists and turns, a devious scheme.
He molds and shapes without remorse,
My life, just a cog in his unfeeling force.
I shout and fight, I struggle and rage,
But fate's grip is firm, I can't assuage.
I wonder why I’m used this way,
A tool in his hand, a part in his play.
I once knew love, so pure and true,
But fate had other plans to pursue.
He made me wield a bloody knife,
And stole away our love and life.
I went to turn back time and see,
If I could change my destiny.
But fate had something else in store,
His will, impossible to ignore.
The agony of seeing my lover's face,
And knowing what I had to embrace,
I tried once more to alter fate,
But once again, I was a moment too late.
Fate always had his own designs.
Made me murder a million times.
I cried and begged and pleaded,
But fate could not be defeated.
He took my love and made me kill,
And made me suffer for his thrill.
He showed me pain beyond compare,
And left my heart in utter despair.
I wept and prayed for sweet release
But fate would never give me peace.
And so I stand here alone,
A shattered heart that can't atone.
The cruelty of fate, how it stings,
I’m a puppet on his twisted strings,
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Forever trapped in his heartless game,
Left to suffer in eternal shame.
He wanted a wife
He loved me
He wanted children
For all to see
He wanted happiness
But found misery
He wanted peace
But discovered brutality
The world’s burdens became his to bear
It’s sins his shackles
At 13
He clasped a rock
An innocent child
His eyes fearful
He brought his hand
down
A cry
A crunch
Weeping
At 20
He clutched a knife
His friend
His eyes pleading
He brought his dagger
down
A shout
A gurgle
“I’m sorry”
At 25
He wielded a sword
His liege
His eyes cold
He brought his blade
down
A thud
A sigh
At 28
He brought his magic
down
Silence
At ???????????????????, he dies
Celebration
Down,
down,
down…
always
down.
You can forever fall further.
Everything can will get worse.
We see. We suffer. We cannot help. You cannot help.
Nothing helps. Nothing changes. Our story is already written.
Why? Why? Why? why?why?why?why?why?why?WHY!?!????????????????????????????????????????????????
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???????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????.??????? ??????????????????Mer?????????????????? ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????diary????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????????????????????????
?????????????????????????????????????????????Elayna?????????????????????????????????.?????? ??????????????????????????????????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????dances?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????death ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????tragedy???????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????
????? ???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????.?????
