Tuesday, August 30, 2011


Ecclesiastes 9:11

I will aim my anger at randomness,
good memories my ammunition.
Like an atheist angry at God,
I, a theist, curse life's random condition.
Though there are signs of fine orchestration,
and there's rhythm to life, like a dance,
the race is not to the swiftest,
for we're all at the mercy of chance.

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