Destiny Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

It was his seventy-seventh jump.
The ancient Cessna rumbled loudly.
They checked their gear
and willed their nerves to be deceived.

All shutes did open, what a sight!
Except for one, and desperation
was written on the Para's face.
And no one else could hear the words
he on the downward journey mumbled:
'To die like this, make no mistake,
is not my destiny, by God! '
Repeated it so many times
that he believed it when he hit.