Tales of Fate.

I love talking of fool's such as myself. Here's a poem to reflect that.

The threads of fate
Turn round my head
Like a noose
Saying that, I'm already dead.

I feel like scum
I want to go numb
With how things are going
My soul, is happy not knowing.

Down and down like my tranquility pills
That bring me peace
That bring me thrills
How I want to just die
With the sense of chills
Going through my eye.

There are many faces of a fool
Who sits and plays
On fates spinning spool
He twists and twirls
The old fate strings
Till they become too long and spoiled
Then fray and twist then coil.

My heart is broken
My soul, twisted
Oh, how does my Mary still go round?
I want to try
To sing a song of calling
Then sing of melancholy colors, falling
That flood to me in such sorrow
I wonder if I'll wake tomorrow?

I wish it could end
I wish I could die
I want it to mend
And I want them to cry
I want them pained
I want them to strain
To wish I was back
And wish I wasn't sleeping
With the reaper now peeping
In on their lives
And laughing...