18 February 2013
Ink on a canvas, some twisted soul's art. Our lives crafted on the whims of a being with no heart. It lets us love others, and then takes them away, It crafts all our actions; dawn till dusk every day. A dog to leap out, the screech of brakes all too late, All were the designs of this being called fate. The complications, the breaks, the 14.9% figure, A family in tears on a birthday, wishing the chance to be bigger. A camouflage pot, that's been hatefully crafted, By this heartless, brush wielding, life breaking bastard. Well, damn you fate, and all that you've done, And next time I see you I'll be bringing a gun.
So, Fate, heed this warning; my bark matches my bite. Use that 15%, and make my dog right.
Fate • Opuss № I