Has fate forgotten?
Has that unspoken promise
forgotten to shake hands with time?
Its perspicacious presence
seems to have eluded yet another moment
that had the potential of being so lucid.
So questions follow,
hovering in between us
like a breath on a winter morning,
skipping between our words
and burning holes in our palms
when clasped together.
Now, should fate bless us with certainty
and peace of mind by making an appearance,
would we even accept what it has to offer?
Will the alliance be broken?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.