Serendipity

poem about loss and the process of an accidental rediscovery. I couldn't help the feeling of writing something related to the title word. it's pretty simple I think so do tell me my flaws in this one.

It was a beautiful tragedy,
It was dark comedy.
He didn't plan for this,
He didn't believe he would miss, still searchin for the glory in his red fantansy.

He tried picking himself up,
He used the mentality of an 'almost full' cup,
but great was the tragedy,
He almost lost his sanity.

Was it the fear of an habit?
Or the habit of a fear,
that keeps tearing down his soul,
that makes him forget his goal,
He doesn't know, maybe it was the silent fright of not knowing.

He has lost His religion,
grace was His only portion.
There was no doubt that he believed,
But there's no denying his unbelief.
His believe and will made stronger by the music,
His doubts and fears made more profound by reality.

When possible He runs from responsibility,
When not, he trusts his complexity,
He found joy in chords
but kept looking backwards,
He troubled himself thinking the simple should be hard.

What has kept him going?
What makes him glowing?
What was his morning hope?
When in nakedness in water and soap.

Serendipity, Serendipity,
His personal and quintessential parity,
it defined his moments of oasis.
it became the lie that told him the truth.