A Cruel, Callous, Chaotic World

O, I have known for a long time
That this is  cruel, callous and chaotic world,
With no providential gods to guide or steer it.
It is subject to wilful weather
Like a sailing ship upon the ocean;
Sometimes sailing serenely across placid seas;
At other times tossed about by woeful waves;
Often battered by brawling winds;
Then unexpectedly becalmed by lackadaisical airs.
Uncaring Fates determine the lives of men -
Spinning, measuring and snipping
As their whims dictate.
Noble beings have no choice
Except
To either change what can be changed
Or endure all that is that is beyond human power.
Humanity must
Acquire the skill to do the one,
Build the strength to do the other
And develop the wisdom to see which is which.
However the Fates do their weaving
We can only walk tall through the valleys and across the uplands;
Be ever confident at every bright morning;
Never despairing on bald streets
When the grey day dawns;
Many little lives
Make great
History.