The War On Fate

The fan screams of hatred,

the light burns of it,

the air is full of it,

and the world breeds it.

In one corners lies a punching bag,

who’s both the fiend and my only friend,

on it a pair of gloves hang,

with which I pour upon it,

every now and then,

my brimming heart,

which does not my fate accept.

And if destiny does propose,

That I be torn apart,

From all I care for,

From all I stand for,

Not once, not twice, but times four,

Then I shall settle this score,

For once and forever, on the field of war,

For then it is destiny that I oppose.

And it shall make a worthy opponent,

For it has conquered us all,

But now it must fall,

For in me it has bred a beast,

And I shall not be its guinea pig,

For it to experiment on and rule upon.

For when I come face to face,

With the monster we call fate,

The I shall seal its fate.