Twisted Fate Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

A lament to my prospects
Tis over and all expectations flee
With the pole now a prefect
Coffers dry- to the gods this is my plea
Dreams shuttered to deems
As I wonder, twisted fate* I howl

Howling deviations
In this desolate jungle I call home
Earth a place of disillusionment
Wheezing it won't even make a dissimilar
Illusions got the better of me, rinsed grandeur
The tribulation is so daring- a lament.