Am I truly master

Am I truly master

Or merely an apprentice

Learning on the way

From one mishap to another

When the control

Of one's own actions

Is so easily overridden

By the unforgiving

Hand of blind fate

What power do I possess

For the progress

Of this journey

When in matters

Of high import

I am rendered impotent.

In the face of such indifference

Suffering is endemic

If the hand has fingers

They are always set

As scavenging claws

Ready to pluck

The sweetest fruit

With barely a trace of guilt

Nary a trickle

Escapes lascivious lips

It is never sated

Of its desire to feed

Misfortune is a widely

Held belief

Bartered as currency

And grasped tightly

To the chest of greedy

False gods who play

With cruel intentions

Punishing innocence

With as much delight

As any deceitful supplicant

A feverish serpent

Who would sell the soul

Of a brother

For a bigger share

Of good fortune

Who am I to care?

Even as I do

When the worst will happen

Whether prepared

To fight or not

Even as I rue the day

Cold hearts and innocents alike

Will be swept away

As cruel winds blow

With callous disregard

For sentiment or justice