The Cycle

The cycle bends but never breaks
unless the ground beneath it shakes,
and if it shakes, the people cry
for fear they’ll be crushed by the sky.

The cycle makes the allegory,
dictates what’s dealt to you and me,
and if you want a different fate
you’ll die before the strifes abate.

When one soft pebble breaks the cycle,
it has no concept of its strength,
it shall see, not know, the power
of all pain through which we went.