Destiny's Will February 26, 2006 (Revised October 7, 2013)
The Puppeteer strings all of our souls along
As if a fishery within a sea of lies,
Baiting us with all its hooks and crannies,
Never allowing to speak of a peace.
Indeed, Destiny shall have its say
No matter the time or the month's day,
And the ubiquity of the glaciers
Shall never reach lukewarm
Till Hell shall freeze o'er the coals
And a new age is donned into the fold.
The pain shall force the blood from you,
For you pushed that boulder to the cliff's edge,
Only to have it roll back unto the void,
And your destiny lies amid a dearth of fruition.
O'! I know you have worked laborious,
'Tis difficult to fathom the success you sought,
Only to spectate how it crashes ignominious,
For Destiny's Will hath broken your spirit.
I listen to your harrowing screams of pain,
Listening as I do as you drown in your breathing,
Yet never shall it matter for you nor I,
For Destiny's Will has all beneath her thumb.
It matters not a thing whether thy blood is smooth,
Or the bones are solid, of consistent continuity,
For all are damned to an eternity of labor
Between The Devil's lies and the abysmal seas.
No matter the situation, the person, beast or prince,
All are doomed to an eternity mired in slavery,
To fail so miserably, 'tis an Homeric epic.
As if a fishery within a sea of lies,
Baiting us with all its hooks and crannies,
Never allowing to speak of a peace.
Indeed, Destiny shall have its say
No matter the time or the month's day,
And the ubiquity of the glaciers
Shall never reach lukewarm
Till Hell shall freeze o'er the coals
And a new age is donned into the fold.
The pain shall force the blood from you,
For you pushed that boulder to the cliff's edge,
Only to have it roll back unto the void,
And your destiny lies amid a dearth of fruition.
O'! I know you have worked laborious,
'Tis difficult to fathom the success you sought,
Only to spectate how it crashes ignominious,
For Destiny's Will hath broken your spirit.
I listen to your harrowing screams of pain,
Listening as I do as you drown in your breathing,
Yet never shall it matter for you nor I,
For Destiny's Will has all beneath her thumb.
It matters not a thing whether thy blood is smooth,
Or the bones are solid, of consistent continuity,
For all are damned to an eternity of labor
Between The Devil's lies and the abysmal seas.
No matter the situation, the person, beast or prince,
All are doomed to an eternity mired in slavery,
To fail so miserably, 'tis an Homeric epic.
'Tis done. Finis.
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