If I could know the title given
to the life that would follow
forewarned by script’s hand
this prophecy yet to pass

chapters made of shifting pages
some pristine and others tattered
with many more yet to turn
if the fates feel it’s deserved

precepted by a declaration
only gods know the heading
stating future’s hidden winding
perfect in the rearview mirror

still a warning would be nice
six foot tall against the sky
this dream will fail in the future
portents lost in lettered scribbles.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191114.