xvii. destiny

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by rigswrites

by rigswrites

destiny

Destiny.

It's something everyone secretly desires -
For our lives to have a purpose.
To be living for something instead of nothing,
To know we wake up everyday, working towards a more meaningful life.

But we don't like to embrace the bad about it -
A life that equates to nothing,
Being but a ripple in Destiny's fabric.
The idea that the chaos that runs wild inside
Is all but a way to name insanity.

And we are left to dwell
on all that is of our present and past -
Death of the brave men and cowardly men,
Oppressionists - enslaved by their own minds,
Power hungry men and
Men who go hungry because of power.

And suddenly it doesn't entice as much as before,
Because maybe, just maybe,
Your destiny isn't all that great.
For your love is cursedly unrequited;
Given to those who cannot reciprocate it,
And you plans are destined to fail,
With nothing but destitute to show.

Or it's in your favour, good fortune befalling you-
So filled with contentment,
Not even the ruin of man can bring you down.
So armed with love,
that not even the narrow minded can infiltrate.
So accustomed to power,
That you become an unbreakable force.

The truth is,
I think destiny is unknown.
I think destiny can change in an instant.
It's not set, like films or novels makes it out to be.
It is always altering, unstitching and restitching.
Building up and breaking down
With every choice we make.
Ever-Changing.

// R.M.

just some late night ramblings.

Some believe the number 17 is an unlucky number. xvii rearranged creates the word vixi, which means "my life is over".

But it's up to you what you believe and allow to rule over you life. Life is only over if you stop fighting for it.