Song: Your
Call �" Secondhand Serenade
Mood:
Thoughtful
I never had a
fancy for the term “destiny,” though its concept seems to dip in parts of the
pool of a more accepted concept of fate in my existence. I can trust to say
that all things happen for a given reason, but I ill certainly not believe that
things were destined to crumble from the very start. If the world danced in the
stiff face of destiny, there would be no absolute reason as to accept hope.
Must I wear a mask of ignorance at the difficulty of changing the impossible?
Must my lips remain dry and cold at the lack of the fret of your lips against
mine? Watch my bones scowl and spit at the feet of destiny as it recites its
predetermined verse: “Born you were to love her, but flee now from love, lest
you die hating her.”
A plan to
bring you back home took rise in my conscious blind sight. I still believe in
all your promises, for a single word from you can out weight every other in a
world’s dictionary. “I promise you, I will bring you home, I will bring you
home!” I am not one to break rules, but my soul always has the craving to bend
them in the direction of the dead wind. I know better than to tell you of my
plans, for I know you can strike me to the ground with your rejection to my
deliberate desires. But into the night we shall escape and like foxes, the
pearl white moon shall be our veil and disguise. Fool I was for rejecting at
first, the thought of possessing what was by all right, mines and yours to
claim. This song calms me softly, though not with sweet lullaby of the melody
you made to cherish me to sleep: “I was born to tell you I love you,” and into
the night we shall escape and like foxes, the pearl white moon shall be our own
veil and disguise.
prev chapter
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing