Fate

Days and nights fade away. Summer passes and people are like rustling leaves in a forest. I’ve already turned brown and fallen to the ground. This is how I know my fate. Not anything grandiose, but only a dream of being awake. I’m not afraid of dungeons or disease. Already I can see through my hands, my arms, and I see only gray bones. I couldn’t sell my soul; the devil wouldn’t want it. No bother cursing me; I’m already cursed and will die without a trace.