The Third Law Poem by Roy Ballard

I throw down my challenge, Fate,
Chaos, Fortune, Chance…
whatever you wish to call yourself.
I defy your imperative force.
In your anonymous face
I fling my glove.

Reader, why should I try to deceive you
in the attempt to deceive myself?
Chance rules the life of man.

I cannot oppose it;
for its creature, time,
works its Paganini tune,
scratching its legs like the desert locust
on a gypsy violin,
irretrievably eating its way
across the cosmos.