Spinning of Destiny Never stops. Unseen its designs, Defying all rationale, Mocking human scrutiny And cures to avert its decrees.
But not unfelt Its hushed hooves Shocking and stunning us All unawares!
History is a museum Of the dead, The sepulcher Of the sagacious and the saintly, The virtuous and the vicious, Wherein guide The ghastly moves Of the curate- Our present, In the shadows and reflections Into the deceptive future, Through the hoary past, With rosy innocence!
And the innocent mortals, In all their smartness, Are liberally duped And smarted Into the cadence of life.
Spinning never stops. So spin, spin life in, And spin life out, Within and without, O dear destiny!
