Something is coming,
Something falling
Down, down to the icy blue surface.

It could be the sweet Cherry petal,
Blown on the winds of change.
Or perhaps the hard, jagged stone,
Thrown recklessly and without cause.
Calmly, the water waits
without even pondering what is to come.

Will the soft, pink pastel blossom
come to float gently on the surface,
soothing like the touch of love?
Or will it be the large gray boulder of sinking despair
that comes to manifest painfully
in the heart of the peaceful pond?

A fifty-fifty coin toss, that is all this is.
A simple game of chance,
fragile emotions used as pawns.

Shall we be happy?
Or shall discord reign?
We all strive for the latter not to befall us.
In the end, however, we all submit to the merciless hand of Fate.

And all we can do is pray, that we will be the lucky half,
the half who win the game.