Come toward me, seeker of fate, come,
And listen to my words as they flow,
Wrapping themselves around your being,
Singing the notes of the days to come.

Oh, seeker of fate, tell me,
Do these words entice you?
I see the cleverness in your eyes,
Surely you must understand them?

Think now, seeker of fate, of my words,
Do they bring you pleasure? Euphoria perhaps?
Or do they cause you despair? Possibly disappointment?
Could it be a little bit of both?

I address you, seeker of fate,
Who I, teller of fate, am genuinely curious,
Your fate, now written plain as day before you,
How does it feel to know?

I, the spirit of the living, have a story to tell,
T’is a tragic tale, one of 2 lovers,
They lived so happily, until embraced in fell,
T’was a day like any other, sunshine all around,
A man and his dearest sat on a beach,
Taking in its serenity, listening to the ocean sound,
But I could feel a darkness lurking behind a distant cloud,
My counterpart, yet my second half, was approaching,
The spirit of the dead had entered, the girl he took under his shroud,
Such agony resulted, such weeping, such sorrow,
Oh, the spirit of the dead would be back soon,
For the boy would not live to see tomorrow.

I, the spirit of the dead, have a story to tell,
T’is a heartwarming tale, one of 2 lovers,
They lived so happily, in love forever they’d fell,
T’was a day of disaster, chaos all around,
A man and his dearest sat on a beach,
Not noticing its blood thirst, not hearing its deadly sound,
I could feel a lightness visible from behind my cloud,
My counterpart, yet my second half, was approaching,
The spirit of the living was there, yet powerless against my shroud,
Such happiness resulted, such joy, not leaving any room for sorrow,
Oh, the girl and I knew I would be back soon
For the girl knew she would see the boy tomorrow.

Oh little leaf on the wind, to where will you fly?
Spreading your body across the night sky,
Will you drift over the banks to eventually rest on the stream?
Floating atop the water bathing in the sun’s longest beam,
Or will you float over a forest to eventually join your kind?
Blowing in the breeze, a threat in the air you shall not find,
Oh little leaf on the wind, to where will you fly?
I envy you so.

I have been taken to someplace new, someplace with ample beauty,
Above me, pearly white clouds drift lazily on the clear blue sky,
Below me, luscious grass licks my ankles, blowing in the warm breeze,
Behind me, a clear river flows, its water clean enough to see the trees’ reflection,
In front of me, baby blue mountains pierce the sky in abundant numbers,
To my left, a thick forest of a seemingly endless assortment of trees flourishes,
To my right, a single snowy white dove sits perched on a very large evergreen tree.

The dove lives in harmony with me, alongside me, within me,
The tree on which it rests is the largest tree within my view,
As long as the tree exists, the dove exists; as long as the dove exists, I exist,
The dove and the tree tell a story of great friendship and harmony,
For without the dove, there is no tree; without the tree there is no dove,
I am its only audience, the only one who is listening, yet I listen with great attention,
Their story is that of life: what it was, what it is, what it will come to be.

The sun is rising, but something is different, something is not quite right,
The river exhibits a shade of ****** red; the forest reeks of damage,
The mountains sing a sorrowful tune; the clouds obliterate the sky,
The grass has hardened, now a gloomy gray; the breeze has turned frigid cold,
The dove has gone, its once green home reduced to a defeated ash,
The once great land has vanished, and with it, the feathered wing had vanished too,
For without the dove, there is no tree; without the tree there is no dove.

I live here, in this land of filth,
Here I sit, prosperity beyond that which I can achieve,
Oh, this land, it keeps me prisoner,
I cannot move on, I cannot leave.

This land needs no fence or guards to imprison me,
For it has already drained the fire inside, the fire of hope,
Oh, this land, it shackles my soul, locks my heart.
The land supplies the darkness through which I *****.

Here I wander, friendless and alone, across the land,
I wander through the forest of despair, all is gray,
Oh this land, it cages me in the bars that are my intelligence,
This land controls me, commands my mind, I’m forced to stay.

I hear it, outside, whistling with menace,
An ill intent exists within,
Behind it, the sordid remains of its last victim,
It cannot be stopped; it is invincible, omnipresent,
T’is the wind, a fell wind,
Think of it, it is to be feared,
But do not join it, corruptness spawns from it.

One may ask, “how did this wind come to be?”
Oh, curious one, t’is a most gruesome tale,
The wind of evil was fed, not created as it is now,
T’was weak, unable to harm a leaf,
It grew strong, feeding on the substance which it was made,
That which human holds in great amounts,
T’is greed, horrible, destructive greed.