The fates rhyme

As the midnight hour approaches

All the evil things encroaches

On all the living and the dozy

As they sleep in bed all nice and cosy

Weaving magic above their heads

Some will wake in the morning

Some will not

Some will awaken before then, in shock!

As nightmares are woven above their heads

Spinning yarns of fate on fine threads

No one knows what waits for them

In the morning, an evil fate or a shining gem

It is always a new dawning

And the fates never give a warning

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Filed under Poems S - U

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