The hand of fate...
The hand of fate shifts as it lifts. One blind eye turned to a keyhole bled dry. The greater the blade strikes, the slower the destiny fights.
In the dwindling agony a maze appears. In the shy corner of its vines and twists, a leaf falls. Gently carried through the halls, the mystery holds.
The tale remembers. The sail bleeds in the swift winds of a rainy storm coming. One cave fast approaching within its solitude the end crashes.
Pale frightens the day. Hungry starves without pay. For in the hold of being a solitude grew to seeing and from far away fate twisted and turned to wake up lost in a memory mourned.
Until the next 🤍 beat ~.~.~
