A fine mist fell over the town,

   While a dark horse went all around

    And bodies kept falling here and there,

    A silence, then echoes of "Evil Beware."




    The fate, those sisters weaved their yarn,

    A destiny, its path in stone drawn.

    A life sprung and smiled somewhere,

    Another struggled to breath in air.



     Some battles won and others lost.

     Of will and fate, both turned and tossed.

     A crimson dawn to a long drawn path,

     Of  sprouts tender on deeds of past.




      It looked all murky, dust and fog.

     Fingers crawled for fragments lost.

     Of tender hearts, caressing warmth.

     Of soft whispers from night to dawn.




      Beginnings from nothings, endings in noughts,

      Particles of God, traversing expanses vast.

      From structure and order to willful chaos,

      From shining galaxies to deep black holes.




        Was there a plan , a fate unseen?

        Or random probabilities, entropy of beings?

        Merging and expanding at the frequency of life,

        And a final release of all known ties?




         To align and be the energy of universe,

         To be the conscious dance of earth.

         Beginning from naught and ending in one,

         That is the yarn of fate, undone.



                                                                          Shruti Anand Prada