Master-Plan Poem by Vidur Mohta

Vagaries, we might think,
But a master-plan is always abreast,
Running the course as intended,
Envisioned at the throne in firmament,
Every second an epoch,
Every life an epithet,
We are but puppets,
Living through the whims,
Of the powerful Almighty,
His wish our command,
His intention an edict,
The being however significant,
Holds no dominion,
So, rejoice and live to the fullest,
With no qualms of outcome,
As its always as He intends,
But, be wary, it's not all rosy,
As just factotum we aren't,
Since will is freely given,
And hence, our stack of Karma,
We are balancing by self,
Delve, we must into the deep,
Search, we must the meaning,
For He doesn't do things in wile,
He is after all the one who has,
Master-plan even for interregnum.