The Future

Upon a crystal ball a tear did fall,

casting it's sorrows and fears.

Wiped away, the girl did say:

"Warily, it can be cleared."

Fortune be told, merrily and bold,

the product of defeat.

Misfortunes and woes and burdens, carried and cold,

dropped near her feet.

Upon the frail, hallow ground,

did she down so deep.

She fell, she cried, tried to hide,

falling upon her knees.

Death took hold, swallowed her whole,

and left her empty soul.

Nothing left, nor words to speak,

the Grim Reaper fufilled his goal.