Fate & His Madness

Its him! Its him! the mad mouthpiece is coming. With the smell of death kicked up and in his grasp, trailing behind him a black steel horse, and he comes straight for us.

He says “Take heed, for if thou shalt presume to flirt with spirits, thou shalt join them. Does fear exist within the heart of a hunter? And those who test God do so in Sin. I appear within the depths of night and I give no heed to any fears.”

 

Even when the evergreen oak is shaken by the storm, even when the birds cry out. I am worried. And I will for now be worried. There is no need to hurry so, Don’t go. The moonbeams are still satisfying. The moonlight seems to make this brawl look like twilight. But before long, that light too will fade. I guess before long the satisfying light of the sun shall be lost too. For fate has driven us both mad.

This poem is about: 
Me

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