My future is in my past.
I know it doesn't make sense but it actually does.
All my hopes of who I want to be
Have been buried with dead ancient dreams.
Corpses of ambitions lie six foot under
With tombstones of pity and mourning.
My future is in my past and I am free
To chalk up everything to destiny
My fate is written in torn pages of time
My hope is no longer mine
Yet my existence is my own epiphany

(c) Anavah 2019