For I am the creator of destiny
My weathered hands tear apart on cracked grounds
they tear apart on beat up hearts
(why is fate such a cruel beast?)
The crossroads you face
The time you spend looking and waiting for
Why, my dearest life,
that time is wasted
the sign is held deep within.
deep within a place of existent
(that is often left behind)
The place (you may ask) is not one of fortune.
not one of greed.
not one of lust.
not even on of hope.
But of life.
But of yourself.
But of your heart.
All within your destiny…
The destiny I create
And hand to you with the care
while my scars bleed to show that time is real.