Fate

[THE POET, spoken]
I sat down feeling desolated
Bowed my head and crossed my knees
Is fortune really predicated
Upon such tiny turns as these?

Then Fate's a thing without a head
A puzzle never understood
And man proceeds where he is led
Unguaranteed of bad or good

[THE POET]
Fate!
Fate can be the trap in your path
The bitter cup of your tears
Your wine of wrath!
Fate can be shade in the desert blaze
Sudden food in a famine found
The sound of praise!

Incomprehensible and strange
Fate can play a trick with the twine
To weave the evil and good
In one design!
And so, my Destiny
I look at you and cannot see

Is it good, is it ill?
Am I blessed, am I cursed?
Is it honey on my tongue or brine?
What fate, what fate is mine?

Fate can play a trick with the twine
To weave the evil and good
In one design!
And so, my Destiny
I look at you and cannot see

Is it good, is it ill?
Am I blessed, am I cursed?
Is it honey on my tongue or brine?
What fate, what fate is mine?