There's a weight limit on the world,
For the rain.
These duplicate ocean pebbles of water.
Salted for earth's dinner.

Each day gives us a reason,
To be ourselves.
If not a few hours,
Some special minutes in the moon's light.

The orchestration of Destiny & Fate
Entwine the meridians.
With nothing left but this primer of mist.
In our palms.

There's a fortune buried within us.
A catalogue, of identities to become.
Sometimes, Wishful thinking,
Boils our conscience.
When that,
Is all we have,
On this earthly scale.