May 2014
Karma or Kismet
Was it fate or a figment?
Was it karma or kismet?
A fool’s wish or a poet’s dream?
At this point I can’t remember.
At this point it no longer matters.
The moment she walked into the room my life was changed forever.
So much so, that I can no longer remember who I was before she first spoke my name.
Yet this was not the plan.
The world was mine alone,
a playground for my every wish and whim.
I held it in my hand with no more regard than a child has for a toy.
In that land of make believe I crowned myself king over a realm of ash, upon a throne of dust.
For what more could it be without a queen with whom to share it with?
Now it seems that the fates are laughing at me,
because the mere thought of her has shattered the walls of my fortress of solitude.
The curve of her smile has rendered me into Cupid’s fool.
This so-called king has become a servant to the beating of his heart, which now beats for her.
Longing only to find a corner of her heart that could be mine and mine alone.
Hoping that same heart smiles when she thinks of me, as mine does for her.
Not wanting to be the center of her universe.
Just wanting to be worthy enough to be in it.
To be at her side as she would be at mine.
Ruling together the vision of a kingdom painted on a canvas of love with hues of both our choosing.
Truly this must be the way things are meant to be.
Yet reality reminds me once again that these are merely the musings of a romantic, hopelessly confined within the will of fate.
But if it were not for this dream the word 'hope' would lose all meaning.
So continue to dream I shall, until the judge of time verdicts that this should be a figment or fate.
by Michael F. Anthony
February 18, 2012
Was it fate or a figment?
Was it karma or kismet?
A fool’s wish or a poet’s dream?
At this point I can’t remember.
At this point it no longer matters.
The moment she walked into the room my life was changed forever.
So much so, that I can no longer remember who I was before she first spoke my name.
Yet this was not the plan.
The world was mine alone,
a playground for my every wish and whim.
I held it in my hand with no more regard than a child has for a toy.
In that land of make believe I crowned myself king over a realm of ash, upon a throne of dust.
For what more could it be without a queen with whom to share it with?
Now it seems that the fates are laughing at me,
because the mere thought of her has shattered the walls of my fortress of solitude.
The curve of her smile has rendered me into Cupid’s fool.
This so-called king has become a servant to the beating of his heart, which now beats for her.
Longing only to find a corner of her heart that could be mine and mine alone.
Hoping that same heart smiles when she thinks of me, as mine does for her.
Not wanting to be the center of her universe.
Just wanting to be worthy enough to be in it.
To be at her side as she would be at mine.
Ruling together the vision of a kingdom painted on a canvas of love with hues of both our choosing.
Truly this must be the way things are meant to be.
Yet reality reminds me once again that these are merely the musings of a romantic, hopelessly confined within the will of fate.
But if it were not for this dream the word 'hope' would lose all meaning.
So continue to dream I shall, until the judge of time verdicts that this should be a figment or fate.
by Michael F. Anthony
February 18, 2012
