Destiny

The inevitability of becoming the product of your surroundings.

Her voice was my prison, strong and velvet

No explanation at her words, I would fold

Sweetly held, I could stay a slave to her will.

 

How wrong it was to dream, how wrong it was to envision, how wrong it was to think.

 

Unnecessary.

 

Throughout the levels of consciousness, I will stop

Layer by layer, hope by hope

Until her face, the world will see and bow to.

 

How wrong it will be to fight, wrong it will be to deceive, wrong it will be to breath

 

Uninviting.

I will speak her words, but twist the tales.

My voice will entrance and rule.

And the sounds will echo and control.

 

Volumes will reverb and fade.

Purposely without a purpose I will succeed.

 

How wrong it will be to wonder, wrong it will be to stand, wrong it will be to change.

 

Unknowingly.

Author's Note

I wrote this with two different idea's in mind. The first was from a daughters point of view about becoming her mother and the second was because I used it in a script and was a metaphor for a girl being turned into a vampire and becoming the beast that destroys her. Both were fictional.

Open to your own interpretation as always.