When the hands of fate waver,
fear snatches our hearts
When the hands break loose,
the mankind shudders and falls,
slowly through mind and physique
but suddenly experience the
pulsating sheet of ignorance,
bliss and recklessness tear apart,
when two pairs of hands collide,
a storm brews up,
be it love or be it to hatred,
the unfateful fate decides,
Trust be the concrete of for a stable path,
mistrust are the cracks that appear within,
it slowly crumbles,
where lie acts as an axe to rush the breakdown
of the ever progressing immortally
mortal hands.
Some say we make the hands,
that we lay the bricks,
the concrete and steer the wheel forlorn,
where some say served in the platter,aye,we are.
Both the paths are trusting lies,
the false veracity in our innocently mischievous minds.
When we look up at that face with the daunting smile,
as rarely as one does,
he unmistakably realizes,
the true strength in the fight.
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