- just bad luck-

Look forward.

The future.

But know that on your shoulder

L side R side rests the rising tide of chance,

stalking you, haunting you, silently running amok.

While your wide eyed smiles and glib commentary,

your trust in your safety zones, your protected milieus

lay bare your soul  to that which you cannot control.

Fate rides.

Her majestic path.

The temptress of havens bearing portents of joys,

licking sumptuous lips, her goodness slipping,

 juices dripping, delighting your coloured

light refracted fantasies.

Infected  gilt laden absurdities.

 Acquiescence’s.

What then.

Fetters thrown back.

Mist rising from pixilated greens, reveal lyrical shades of highs and lows.

See. Glimpse as dewy drops wiped

from your showerproof room

anoint visions

and groundless reality reveals

 a translucent truth.

That all that befalls you transcends

the opacity of that which you can never know

far less control.