Dreamsong III (or "Shicksal")

Moon-song spun a shining path, and starlight lead the way,
Lambent stones led ever down to the lake of fate and dreams.
Standing, searching, on the shore arose a web of what could be.
And reflecting from the lake itself, cascading lights and gleams.

Strange it was to look and see, which ways your life could come to be
To see one’s life set in such stone, arouse a wrenching plea.

For not all paths, the lake did clear, the biting truth it showed,
Was only which would never be, no matter how things go.
So while one was free to travel murky sides with mysteries to find,
The mirror future of the lake itself would never come to know.

I traveled there that blinding night, to peer into that lake,
No interest in those shadow-paths that I was doomed to take.

I stood upon that brilliant shore and cast into the water,
To find you standing next to me, holding hand and hand.
Bitter tears flowed up, for ‘twas not fun for one to realize,
The dream you’re chasing simply cannot be, no matter what you’ve planned.

The saddest truth – one never knows exactly what will come or what will be,
Yet one must leave that shore of dreams to seek their destiny.