The Paradox of Life's Journey : The Tug of War Between Destiny and Free Will

In the abyss of time's dark, brooding sea,
I drift aimlessly, a mere mote of dust,
Tossed and turned by cosmic destiny,
And crushed by fate's unyielding, iron thrust.

No guiding hand directs my every move,
No deity's watchful eye my life controls,
No grand design my fate and fortune prove,
No shepherd leads me to celestial goals.

But still, the weight of predestination,
Like chains of steel, binds fast my soul's ascent,
And whispers of the futility of action
Mock every effort, every step, every intent.

The poets of old, with their rhymes and verse,
Sang of free will, of choice and agency,
But what choice is left when the universe
Is but a clockwork of inevitability?

The Greek fates, with their spinning thread,
The Norse Norns, with their weaving loom,
All tell the same tale, of a life ahead,
Scripted, plotted, predetermined doom.

And yet, some say, the future's not set,
That chaos and chance can break the mold,
That randomness can make us masters yet,
And free us from the grip of fate's cold hold.

But I, a creature of this mortal coil,
With eyes that see but shadows of the real,
Am bound by doubt and skepticism's toil,
And trapped within a maze of thought surreal.

For every argument, there's a counterpoint,
For every theory, there's a contradiction,
And reason, like a bird with broken joint,
Can only limp, and flutter, and then, extinction.

The Eastern sages, with their timeless lore,
Speak of illusion, Maya's veil of lies,
Of karma's wheel, that grinds forevermore,
And souls that soar or plummet, as fate implies.

But what solace lies in this endless cycle,
This ceaseless round of birth and death and pain,
This mockery of hope, this farce of survival,
This dance of shadows in a cosmic rain?

No, I refuse to bow to destiny's call,
To bend my knee to fate's relentless march,
To be a puppet in some cosmic brawl,
To be a slave to some impersonal arch.

I'll take the reins of life, and steer my fate,
With courage, will, and reason as my guide,
And though I may not cheat the hands of fate,
I'll live and die as one who's truly tried.

So let the poets sing of fate and free will,
Let the philosophers ponder life's great scheme,
Let the mystics pray for divine skill,
Let the theologians argue God's supreme.

I'll be content to walk this mortal path,
With eyes wide open, heart and mind alert,
And face the future, free of fear or wrath,
And know that in my life, I've been my own expert.
















The poem you have read is an excerpt from one of the main chapters of the book "Homo Sapiens Part XVI" under the popular  "Homo Sapiens" book series written by Mawphniang Napoleon.  To fully experience the poem and the rest of the book, we recommend purchasing a copy from a variety of online bookstores, including Amazon. Don't miss out on the opportunity to read the complete version and explore other books by the same author.
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