Grotesque Pulchritude

My Moirai

You were my Moirai

My Clotho, my Lachesis, and my Atropos

The one who appropriated and controlled my golden thread

Whenever you desired you interweaved it on your wheel of malice

And needle of deception

You wove my golden thread to fabricate a luminous tapestry

But when it came time, you lacerated it as though it were some mere tendril,

A deterrent in your trajectory of world domination

Now, it lies shattered on the floor, just like my heart

Stygian and robbed of its scintillating magic

You were my Moirai

My prologue, my epilogue, and everything in between

The one who used a quill to scribble the catalogues in my book

I abided by your wish as you flipped the pages of my life

Beginning a new chapter whenever you pleased

And when you punctuated the culminating sentence of my novel,

All I could do was watch

It felt like the narration of the Forbidden Apple all over again

You were the malevolent Apollyon, and I was innocuous Adam

You were my Moirai

My Spring, my Summer, my Autumn, and my Winter

The one who chose when I would wade through the four seasons of life

You beguiled me into choosing the Primrose Path to the bewitching gardens of Spring

I fell for the façade of the blossom trees, burgeoning flowers, and the pleasant zephyr

Then, you led me into the sweltering lair of Summer,

Assuring me it was only ephemeral, that you were right about

It was only when I saw the brown, crestfallen leaves,

I knew I'd entered the penultimate stage of my life

By the time I'd deciphered your guise, I was already in the glacial dungeons of Winter

Half-frozen, desperately awaiting the moment I'd fall into a state of eternal sleep

You were my Moirai

My everything

The reason for my nativity,

The reason for my living,

And the reason for my ruination

You were my Moirai