Poison has Two Faces

Like fate, a chance encounter,
has gnarled ancient hands,
caressing the prime of life,
bringing haste to the final second.

If only by chance,
pain should find itself,
to bring about the end of time,
for an earthbound soul,

then all who knew him,
would then despair in their solitude,
and reflect on the contract,
which seemed to expire unjustly.

And they would proclaim,
"Twas not time, o traveller,
that brought about your demise,
but merely, the vicissitudes of fate."

And thus, they shall depart,
and forget,
but not be liberated,
from the two poisons of life.

The curse of fate,
And the passing of the age.