Sep 1, 2015, 1:23 PM

Destiny 

  Poetry » Other
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She handpicked the hearts as fruit
And never said whom she would choose
But torn they were from their vines
Oblivious to their use
In making finest timeless wine
And only history would know
This taste that would endure the flow
Of time, of memory, and mortal minds,
One destiny, herself, designed

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