Free Will is an Illusion (a poem)

Free will must be an illusion
None of us are running the show
I spend my days in utter confusion
My instinctual drives I don’t know

What is destiny? What is fate?
Are these things superstitions?
Let’s gather and have the debate
I’ve always had my suspicions

I believe the subconscious deep within
Has more say than we like to believe
And many of our decisions hinge
On things we cannot perceive

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Red Moon (a poem)

Red moon, where did you come from?

Red moon, what do you want?

I offered my children

I ignored your taunts

What more could you ask for?

Must you always flaunt

and remind me I’m an earth-bound servant

in the killing fields

my servitude is permanent

my fate is sealed

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