The Cleansing Charm of Fate
“A love will come," the sage had told,
"She’ll cleanse your past, turn dirt to gold".
"She’ll wash me clean,
Luck will change, my slate wiped keen”.
A charm, a cure, a sacred spell,
To lift the weight where darkness dwelled.
She gave him time, her world, her name,
Just before he left, he met her gaze,
Eyes so warm, so full of haze.
He swore to her that he would always stay, to never stray,
"Don’t doubt me once, I’m here to stay”.
Twisted ties and bore the blame.
He held his past like rusted chains,
Emotionally unavailable, too lazy for love, too numb for pain.
He used her as a good luck charm, to summon fate,
To bring him luck, to change his state.
A shield from bad, a sign of grace,
To turn his life, to a brighter place.
He stood untouched, too tired to feel,
Draped in wounds he’d never heal.
No love, no care, no hand to hold,
Just empty words, rehearsed and cold.
“I fear my fate, my dreams undone,
But with you, my luck will run."
Yet when his burden slipped away,
He turned his back, chose not to stay.
There are some who stay till your struggle ends,
And others who leave when their fortune ascends.
They forget the one who stood by their side,
When nothing was left but hope and pride.
And when the weight had left his chest,
He walked away, left her unrest.
So tell me now, what holds more truth?
A man’s soft words or what he proves?
