Easy come. Easy go.

Pastoral makeup and painstaking break up
Painstaking...being the pain
from the piercing of the stake, but for goodness sake
The pain comes in waves as opposed to courses on a plate
To feel belittled by the riddle
The twisted idea of fate, it's lost, too late
To fiddle with the letters written down on the slate

To close your eyes as an attempt at pretending
Pretending to pretend it's your friends you're defending
Fate, to put it lightly, is quite simply impending
The theory that some day your Uncle's world will be ending
The fact that a coin can travel years; pending
Only to fall into the hand
Of a man with the ability to stand
On the cusp between the good, the bad,
And the promised land.
Founded on grains of sand