Fate is a mouldering scarecrow,
barking at us all,
separating the haves from the have mores,
its name is saturnine,
and never wavers,
smiles emanate from its ghoulish visage,
revealing a world of horrors,
and a dark side that few could imagine,
and winter’s fangs sink into the world,
so many non sequitur sun rises,
so tired of living,
of breathing,
of being,
never a dull moment when you play the villain,
never a nod to the anti heroes
