plot
mortals,
think they are writing
their own path
how funny.
bound by invisible chains
of fate, shackles of
destiny, you have never been
free.
crash and burn, mortals,
you think you are writing a new
story.
mortals, you repeat
the lines of history,
you are born to repeat the endless
loop
everything is old.
everything is the repetition of the
past. every path has been carved before,
and all we do is rewalk the worn dirt
paths of the ones before
It is easier to be part of a story
prewritten, be part of a plot
you already know
YOU ARE READING
watercolor thoughts [completed]
Poetrypoetry by a painter who now paints her art in words "we tread too loudly, too violently on our earth. we smear our dark, ugly night all over the canvas and call it art." #80 in poetry [12/22/16] | © 2016 lookforthatlight
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