some grand Design

Of fate

Of the rings on trees and lines on palms, so intricately beautiful yet nothing in comparison to the width of the ocean or the clashing of the seas.

Fate, patterns

Repetition by the creator.

Of birth and death and DNA

Copies upon copies upon copies

Inheritance of actions and weak limbs

We follow zero to one to zero…sun moon sun….love hate love

“Nuth’n new under the sun!”he spits, old and weary and burying his son, just as he’d laid down his Pa.

Roles, is all. We play ’em then die, 

but play ’em we must.



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