Entangled amongst
the hidden strings
Avoiding threaded paths
lined with torment sweat
Fate turns her head
to my unmitigated suffering
Its punishment for
my pretentions to suit her.
But I fear I'm walking in circles
if I follow the sound of rolling thunder
where the air thickens
and feigns clarity
thus the road seams nearly unending
picking at the stitching near the feet
of a reaper whom sharpens his scythe
only for me.