Destiny

A dream not seen in the night, Not glimmering in the light, A mere glance into my inner soul, A pool of tears in a crystal bowl, From sorrowful mourning of loss, Of a destiny like dew on the moss, Of a life that could only be found, In a world of a pure, harmonious sound. This is one’s true dream, Or so it would seem, One’s wish to be more than unbeknownst, And completely insignificant or alone, A glimpse of destiny’s true wish, Handled on a gold platter and dish, A fortune of the truest kind, A destiny and dream with hands twined. Could fate truly be real, Something to fuel life with innocent zeal, If it can also bring unhappiness in the worst way, By making it hard to live happily today, Perhaps it is unobtainable, The idea of destiny in-explainable, Or perhaps just with a bit of heart, We can find our truest dreams and begin at the start.