Weary eyes from sleepy fates
Try to make the whole world great,
Snipping threads for weaves misspun...
A cutting floor of ruined fun...
Sleepy fates forgetting love
Require some, at times a shove...
Someone call them, wake them up
Remind them, of the treads they cut...
Someone call them, wake them up...
To answer then, for what was struck:
Trim we will and trim we must
A pity if we slice too much,
Forgive for all the pain we cause.
Allow some time for joy to pause...
And down the line when one appears
We'll be more careful with our shears.
Weary eyes, from sleepy fates
Control you lost, when love you take...
The reins belong to those entangled
To make amends of all you mangled.
Free from what they cannot see
Cut loose the web and let them be.
Untying knots, would bind another
To forget them one, would make all suffer.
Clotho spins a frame to fit,
Chaos rules, least we knit...
Joy and sorrow must take their turns
Cold or Hot, we all must burn.
Misguide them, bind them, shroud all in dark
Cruelest fates, you have no heart
All who died, and all who left
A sudden cry, love's last regret
Pain in waves, must all this pass
Leave joy alone; leave off your wrath.
And if one must plead to weary eyes,
Forgive us all theses fated cries.
Though they try and send for guards
Fate, pity not this lonely bard
Do not explain, just make it right
Forget your laws, forget we fight
Embrace your brother, feel his pain
Destiny's not a lofty reign
Come then down, from where you stand
High above, your false command...
Cherish not your at random role
See how life must pay the toll.
Then leave it all, to the dice?
Ataxic rule would be so nice...
If all's to chance, an anarchic fate
Eyes shut to all, a rest to take
But spin we will, and spin we must
Fortunes, lives: all in our trust
Belonging not to you or whims
For not you see, for whom we spin...
Fate knits not for heaven
nor for hell,
But to worlds, where living dwell...
'Ordered change' through chaotic moves
Crafts an age where all must prove
That every life is all their own...
A lovely thought, so it is known
Let them play, let them pretend
A delver's smile, a knowing grin
Build you lives, as best you can
And wonder not of guiding hands
Weary eyes from sleepy fates
Try to make the whole world great
Snipping treads from weaves misspun
A cutting floor of ruined fun...
Trim they will and Trim they must
Crafting lives when threads they cut...
Streams of things and tangled strings
Braided lives entwined in rings
Shallow hearts and tired souls
Heroic pride and sainted roles
All lovely patterns, though snags abound
All will end up on the ground...
