TIDES OF FATE
Not for a time unmarked by ways
Behest, emboldened shores unmarked
By eyes to see, witnesses withheld
A while, or more, in time
Futures foretold, as old tales
Told across a fire—dwindling in
Dying light, a last bough breaking off
With startled crack, smoke puff of black
And grey, we will meet again some day
If fate allows, journeys late into the night
Dark deep, gallows, if we will meet
Then let it be in rain or sleet
Hopes kept up with a will
For world’s wares, settle into something
Different, time will tell a number
Of strange tales, but know that when
The light lifts over sea and surf
That phantasmagoria rules the earth