The Fates began our story with a golden strand, straight and separate. Someplace along the river Styx we cross paths and begin to wind together down the same path. Further along our strands entwine and become one, for a short while. The Fates take their scissors and cut my strand away to reveal a shimmer of light, then a patch of very black darkness.
You finish your path, darkness swallowing up the remains of your strand. As you reach the final few feet of your path, my strand appears in your view of eyesight. Such an eyesore, my split strand, all which ways.
The emotion you feel at the very end is what you felt since my strand was cut from yours. The Fates designed us to belong to each other and you chose the opposite.
Enjoy your doomed end, fire demon. For the soul of the innocent has taken your very life from you.
~*Persæus*~
YOU ARE READING
Disquietude
Poetrypoems & letters of someone who was love with a person who is unavailable, to moving on, to being in love with someone emotionally satisfying.
