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A LAMENT FOR FLEETING PROVIDENCE, WHERE FORTUNE BLOOMS ONLY TO WITHER IN THE HAND THAT HOLDS IT./ 🍁 What cruel jest is this, that fate should weave its golden threads only to unravel them with hands as merciless as time?
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A LAMENT FOR FLEETING PROVIDENCE, WHERE FORTUNE BLOOMS ONLY TO WITHER IN THE HAND THAT HOLDS IT./ 🍁 What cruel jest is this, that fate should weave its golden threads only to unravel them with hands as merciless as time?
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