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Predisposed To Life
Apparently I’m just a tool
Destinies fool.
But I refuse the jesters part
Of this proceeding court.
What map has fate graphed?
That stalks my epitaph
What star harbors doom?
The ethereal gloom
Must my ship,
So gallant and fierce,
And blades tip,
Unjustly pierce
The veil of this play
Fates arranged day.
Where can chance ring
Where I can freely sing
My path unfold
My future withhold
My destiny untold.
Copyright ©
Matthew Pawlak
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