fate has a mind of its own
it tinkers too
and performs an experiment
in you
loves guinea pigs
wonders about worms
inside
the humus of the
mind
fate is not cautious
about the softness of your
sensations
it has a choice of its own
no standards to follow
much of the time
unreasonably unfair
do not lurk like a mad soul
a destroyed
bent misshapen
spirit
it will consider you as
another
statistical mishap
take revenge
erase the lines of your palms
venture into the unknown
where fate
too has never gone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem