Past, present, and future
Blossoms from one root, each branch growing
Into the other, intertwining.
What we do now echoes in the future
Likewise every decision we make
And every chance we dare to take
So shall we enter the unknown? With our ready aim?
Into the impressionable abyss
Where what is done today
Will drive the course of time, and manifest.
The greatest way to predict the future
Is not to gaze into balls of glass
Or to ponder a deck of cards
But to create it by the act of choice
What all of that means
Because forgery of fate isn’t a choice
Nor of no weight
Within a world of pure speculation
One forgets what makes them alive
And too, forgets what for they strive
But what will happen when autumn comes
What nature dispenses by hands of a clock
Unwind the worries concealed for ages
And if a tear that speaks of regret of lack
Of happier times appears, it shall dry
And the sorrowful face will wait
The call of early spring, and the brighter days
Poor in my youth, and in life’s recent years,
I speak to be destined acquired wealth,
Likewise positive circumstances and happy scenes
Where the day doesn’t rot, and the hunting has long ceased.
And figs don’t shine as they once did.
As well I wish to see myself
A painter of words, without much but happiness
I should have a story to tell. Be it my
Fortune. Be the experience my essence.
Now, If i were to fail my very own design.
I would have not only lost my own life,
The days would never cease to rot, and the hunting
Would persist until the clock decides to stop.
Oars cannot alone prevail the time
And humankind cannot control time,
I believe in fate, not as a
far force, but power we all possess.