Destiny

Is destiny my sorrow…
Or the reason of the deathly gallows!
Could it be my rejoice…
Else, my true respite!

What is destiny?
Who maketh it?

Thou is my choice.
My armour. My shield.
I am its creator.
In me lies its destruction.
I crumble it.
I resurrect it.

A spell of dark nights,
Stands a white stallion upright.
Paving the dim twilight,
I cross the dense woods.
Reigning a ride of pride,
I mount for my destiny.

Landing on happy surfaces,
My eyes greet ‘Monsieur Monk.’
Hands out two omens,
He demands; make a choice.

Son…choose black, choose white,
Carve thou best luck,
And climb the fate ladder.

O great monk, I replied…
Black is the robe of my scar.
White is my lucky star.
While I adorn the black,
I rise in the glowing white.
I maketh my own ‘Destiny.’
Destiny ain’t a choice to life.
Destiny is my way of life.