Destiny And Fate
What or who is in control,
Of each oneís destiny?
Buoyed and tossed about at will,
Like boat on stormy sea?
Pummeled by the winds that blow,
Uncertain of our way,
As fate, or destiny, or both,
Are in control each day.
And though we cry out in loud voice,
In effort to be heard,
Itís really no more than the sound,
Of distant flying bird.
Our time on earth no larger,
Than speck on desert floor,
A candle once burned brightly,
Until it was no more.
How long are we remembered,
By those we love and touch?
Will it be a short time,
Or maybe even much?
And when death is inevitable,
We cannot make it wait,
For destiny is preordained,
Our life no more than fate.
©  2003  Loree (Mason) OíNeil

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