Fate is simply the hand by which god casts his spells, by which humanity and all the creatures of the land, deities and demons alike, bow their heads, and accept it, the arrangement of the heavens, and god saw all that he had done, and it was good, live, laugh, love, as a poet, I'm an ant preaching on a hill, singing the song of the heavens, announcing their wills, something I don’t quite understand, but these are the underlying principles of magick, eternities and the road extending ever-forward, I'm thirty, but I'm learning still, with my intent, I cast my own spells, but this poetry is simply a snake shedding its skin, my comfort in an ocean of loneliness and despair, a place for my mind to rest, tentacles reaching into the abyss, looking for home and his kin, where were we going, sin, cos, tan, if there’s a pool, we’ll just jump in, status and egos dancing, children growing and finding their pride, win after win, smile and partake in sin…

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