We are
not but a game of dice,
Envisioned by chance,
Designed by gods,
Played by destiny.
We wander
about
In eternal
check mate,
Like mere pawns on a chessboard.
We
breathe,
We take,
We kill –
We bend
nature to our will.
We hate,
And love,
And fail —
We are failures
at our own game.
