If there be such a thing as fate
and of the actions of men
only one ordained path
then how and why like blood
do all stemmed and branched things grow
rooted on the endless roads
of eternal light and dark?
Along the endless paths of creation
stop not to fester in the junctures
of discontent and wearisome woe.
Fates less fated roam unhindered
among the shades and nuances
from white-filled light to light-less black
meandering in the velvet
shades of gray?
*Credit to my Muse Wyatt Leothen's