Moros

I do believe in coincidence,
things that happen, lacking sense.
connected things,
attached by strings,
placed by sightless hands.

A sudden thought,
A chance encounter,

Surprise measured by the size of that chance.
Happenstance.

where should one then place a break,
when the pattern shows a grave mistake?
should one stop.

then start to think,

that there may be a dreadful link?

Must all hope so gently tease?
And carry with such strong unease?
Must all fear, hold so much power;
yet
open
so
slowly.
fragrantly.
like
a beautiful.
delicate.
flower.

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