If it is meant to be,
it will be,
if it could have been,
I should have seen,
what had to be done,
to have had won,
what seems to be,
what no longer will,
or no longer may…

at this place, a long way far,
walked a path, till here i stand,
and say, “Beautiful it is!”
… but inside i know,
it’s only again at this place i am,
and i can’t seem to tell apart,
the colours, that make this place,
again… comes these stream of fears,
like color against blackened white,
but again… comes these hopes:

All that is… All that will…
is for what it’s meant to be.
But all i think that should have been but is not,
is but nothing more than,
my selfish self, serving self…

But again… i’ll wait till
The whitened dark, comes to color,
Or again….i’ll wait till
The whitened dark, fades to naught.