Fates

The happy faces is what we see

But underneath lies a truth so grim,

For tresses of darkness engulf it all,

The faint smile of life lays stark, in a hole.

They come out of nowhere and pull you in,

They make you rejuvenate on chords of sin.

Wicked the religion, that’s for the beautiful thugs;

They weave gauge and cut, that’s their pleasure drug.

They sting the strong, they kiss the weak

For life is a game and that’s all they seek.

You walk and chatter, you dream, you frown,

‘Cause these puppeteers make you dance like a clown.

Clotho spins her spindle glazed,

Sloven Lachesis has the measuring blade,

Atropos slits the golden thread,

And the soul is taken to Hades’s gate.

Just a marionette for the time being-

Waiting for the flicker in candle of wit

Or to render some tremendous feat

And Fates will make you their favourite keep.

-Vaisakhi Mishra