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Kismet.

My name is Kismet.
Life on autopilot,
Predetermined choices,
And fictional freedom.

With a voice that bears no gravity,
And a body that bears no weight.
The sky is out of reach,
And the Earth?
No, I am not grounded.
I dwell in a subconscious limbo.

Constantly arriving,
At points of diversion.
On a bifurcated trail,
I turned left.
For a left is a left,
And a right is a left.

Beyond the split,
I depart,
Yet again, only to arrive,
At another divide,
I turned right.
For a right is a right,
And a left is a right.

My name is Kismet,
And my life is on autopilot.

Morals and ethics,
Doctrines of religion,
Schools of philosophy,
Abandoning one,
And adopting another.
A conviction of free will.

Free will? Free will?
Free will you say?
What a fool.

My name is Kismet,
Takdir.
Fate.
My life is on autopilot.


Grymmripper :]

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