Wyrd Poem by Mrudula Rani

Wyrd



At times I don't hasp the gist of kismet.
Theron rule ontology misty law,
additory heft of ambit nets fret
somewhen the proverbial final straw
patently alights on my abaft
and I can't prognosticate its claw....
astir hurling bales of dicta adrift.

Wyrd
Monday, November 25, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: life
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Wyrd; personal destiny.
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