The whole thing can be forgotten
as swiftly as a wave
that cascades back down the sandy shore
removing the folly of the castles we’ve made

We have learned of this world only to hold it
as if we possess it, as if it were our own

To keep it all in our memory’s hoard
And to doubt all other worlds set before us

And thus fated, set before us all
Our life’s path, our particular thrall

The spirit of “luck” deciding it all
The writing upon the proverbial wall

Fate finally becomes destiny
when we make the crucial choice:
To consciously craft what we believe

Coincidence only becomes synchronicity
when we are able to deny the reality
of the forms that we perceive

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