Like a bullet from a gun is shot,
Life barrels forth hastily.
The force is so utterly not,
That which travels undecidedly.
With unwavering momentum,
The bullet directs itself determinedly,
Seeking no pause or asylum,
From its predetermined trajectory.
Therefore, if the course is set,
Excluding a chance of diversion,
It seems rather folly to abet,
Any pleading efforts at aversion.
The only alternative possible,
To sway the inevitable bearing,
Is to alter the impetus liable,
For the bullet’s explosive firing.
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