Gazing at Fate’s powerful piercing eyes.
Envious, I have no vision to share with Him.
Always longing for His sight over hidden horizons,
I fight on damned to fight myself.
Foolish, callous and triumphant I will charge
For an unattainable ultimate victory.
‘Oh, Fate. What do you see?’
I need His vision.
Man dies to know.
Has died a million deaths.
Shall die a million more.
What further price can be paid than the endless pain we two have sewn?
‘Respond, Almighty Fate!’
————
‘Silence! Futile Man.
Hear, finally. Not hope.’
If a choice, kindly, not even to enemy would I be known.
To be certainly condemned by certainty.
Naive Man.
I, powerful to him, would fear that destiny.
But damned Man’s bold stupidity still nags me.
‘Learn. Cursed fool.’
As I have said before.
Man does not know that he can see
But I cannot share his vision.
I am a relic, limp and blind.
Just a folly of ancient yore.
‘Old friend, it has always been
Freewill is King
So beg of Fate no more.’
I have come to realize I could have ended this poem after four lines and it would have relatively the same meaning.
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