Fate

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  • Philosophy

    Fate

    When dost the hand of fate become
    The enclosed walls, a prison true
    To hold us down with lock and key
    Controlling all we say and do
    And still remains a paradigm
    A curious queue unanswered yet
    If every action bears no motive
    Why do we bear regret
    The time has come my simple friend
    To break these chains and make a stand
    For in the end when truth be told
    Your fate is in your hands

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    shirousa’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Your Song 0
    Rising Phoenix 1
    the Pride of Lions 0
    some simple haiku 1
    Fate 1
    O-Zone 0
    Awaken 2
    Sleeping Dragone 0