It was that incongruity of thought
that lashed across the outstretched hand of fate;
and life, as life always is, a coin toss,
flippant, with no sure outcome to debate.
New paths opening in the realm of choice,
some raw, others smoother and well traveled
safely beckoning with a comfortable voice,
others primitive, wild and uncontrolled.
There's fate swinging its kamikaze sword
battling against its own self interest
able to mutter but a single word,
with powerless repetition, 'divest.'
Hazards present themselves quite readily
so fate can put its feet up and relax
when outcome triumphs over sanity
soon earth will look at man and turn her back,
then fate again will rule with instincts mind
and all that's left tow a congruent line.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There's fate swinging its kamikaze sword battling against its own self interest able to mutter but a single word, with powerless repetition, 'divest.'... yes, fate is like a kamikaze, it bursts at its goal. It is said that fate is the karma of the past life, positive karma results good fate and negative karma results bad fat. However we can't say what will be happened when, life is ours a coin toss. Brilliant poem.