The fates of newborn children were marked in separate cards
Long before their souls flew in their clay figurines like birds.
Beyond doubt, all cards are marked and all fates will collide.
Like the clashing objects in rough whirlwind or Tsunami tide.
My destiny is written, imprinted in a veiled card, so too yours.
All of our fancies, desires, wishes, aspirations will encounter
With engraved truth in cards. The Reality always overpowers
The fake phantoms of Fancy. More or less, we all must suffer.
Let the Cards clash in swirling winds, waves of Providence
For we all are destined, bound with a resilient string of Fate.
Some unseen Hands are weaving the gyrating yarns, hence,
The clashing Fates will blow the trumpets of Love or Hate.