The Idle Argument

The Idle Argument

What if at the end of it all

We’re merely crumbs on a small blue dejected ball

That just hangs in the cold vacuum of space

No way to avoid the end of the irrevocable race

Even before the journey did begin

Already knowing how it will end

Finding that I am only a barren shell

That has in the end been designed to fail

Left right or middle I go on merrily

In the end ending up where I’m suppose to be

Doggedly drawn to something I can not resist

Because life has turned me into a fatalist

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