A Prophecy

How long is the road I travel on?

How many more ruts,

diversions,

rocks?

I love the view but 

my caravan is drifting.

 

Falling apart at the seams,

all the gypsies are gone

or covered by brands and painted

faces.

 

How

far

gone 

must

I

go?

 

Until

the

twisted

fates

of

time

recall

my

mind.

They will remember soon the girl

who tossed her coin

into the 

Dragon's

mouth.

 

A fair gamble

but

her luck comes at 

a price.

 

Three crones,

Five witches,

and

Eight children.

 

Who is the fifth?

 

Is she hidden among the forgotten 

children of the universe?

or among a pile of dead bodies

covered in bile

and burning.

We all die of shit & fire in the end.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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