Of Fatalism
powerless to the force of fate?
the futility of human will
when fate swallows free will like a tidal sea
when choice is neither safe nor certain
you embrace everything happening as fate's design,
an inevitability
perhaps an unseen deity pulling puppet strings?
we are like mismatched spoons in a drawer
to me, there's substance in free will
often wrong directions spinning us out of control
realism that springs from life's seeds
no submissiveness to fate
no resignation to what's believed inevitable
with no obvious design, chance breeds tales of sorrow
sometimes the good end unluckily
while the bad can prosper
unequal outcomes remain unexplained
it's not a world to yield its secrets
bad luck happens (no reflection on self)
it's widespread like bird droppings
Can we reach a different conclusion?
to value moments of misdirection
when personal error becomes art,
poetry that rattles our nerves
from the keen edge of free will,
choice
that stretches beyond a fated helpless
to know that the stars aren't calling the shots
to know that a world of war-hell
is a hell of our own making
Poem composed August 29/2022
For Edward Ibeh
Contest: This or That Volume 13
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