Imagine holding a key
Running your finger along it's edges.
The jagged points and curves forming shallow answers
To a question you don't know.
I imagine that's what fate feels like.
I may have held it out in front of me like a blank page
Just waiting for words to appear,
But the question was never important.
I had the answers for when it came.
I think for me it was the greyish hues
The red of passion, the blue of tears, the black of nothingness,
And everything I've ever felt pooling up.
When I dive into the future,
I stand blind and ready for the next color.
I hold my key in front of me,
Ready for the lock to appear.
I wonder if I'll reach it.
Whatever this destiny is.
Or maybe the key is merely there for hope.
Either way, I run my finger along it's edges
And press forwards through life.