On fate

 

Some Morning Tides Refuse to Turn

Birds Sing on till Eight Bells Ring,

Kings Sleep Fast while Kingdoms Burn

And Those Who Do, Just Do Nothing.

 

Yet still we See Beyond the Stall

To know that Time Unfolds Our Fate,

Its Ceaseless Hand to Sweep Us All

Ne’er once Too Soon and Ne’er Too Late.  

 

Leave a Reply