Before, the sky was clear. Now it is
vast grey like shadowy angel winds
falling like dead leaves from trees:
heavy and violent and weighted,
a burdened beast, like Atlas
with weary aching shoulders
under the umbrage of gravity.
a voice whispers: you do not have
the power to change your fate
on this world. You do not have
the final word. Let it go, child:
foolish hopes and futile dreams.
Your fate is easy enough if you accept it.
By @pencappoetry Tumblr