The Last Contingency
Echoes of Fate
In time’s relentless, winding flow,
A child was cast, both high and low.
Through shifting sands and shattered years,
He walks with hope, but hides his fears.
The maiden blessed by Fortune’s grace,
Unyielding strength behind her face.
Through storms of fate, her spirit soars,
Her heart a key to fate's closed doors.
The Seer who dreams of futures vast,
Cold wisdom bound by shadows cast.
In plans precise, he forged his path,
But missed the spark love’s mercy hath.
A warrior clad in Titan’s might,
His will unbroken in the fight.
His iron soul, a fortress tall,
Defends his own through rise and fall.
The thinker keen, with mind of steel,
Through logic sharp, his truths reveal.
Yet in the dark where numbers fail,
His heart seeks meaning, strong and frail.
Swift as wind, the kinetic flame,
With reckless grace, he plays fate’s game.
Through fire and strife, he’ll never yield,
His soul, a storm — his strength, a shield.
A crafted soul, a pawn defined,
Bound to fate’s cold, ruthless design.
But in the end, his will stood free,
Defying fate’s grim tyranny.
Their story weaves through time’s vast thread,
Where heroes rise, though hope lies dead.
For destiny’s hand can shape and scar,
But choice ignites the brightest star.