Fate is a fickle god
with her winding claws
unruly tresses
feeding off of your violations while
lodging spoonfuls of terror
right down your throat
You see
she doesn’t care
for the unequivocal
she’d much rather
shred you down- force you to
grovel for your wavering
She has a cruel heart
burns you hot and cold
takes you to galaxies
drudges up trenches
and you couldn’t have known
the chaos inside of her
How those actions tormented her
more than it could ever
ever
have hurt you
Éloa 
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