Fate is a strange master
Destined to take a hand
Through glory and disaster
Never knowing what is planned
Angels are sent to guide
Blind folk through the dark
Buffeted by stormy ride
Leaving emotive mark
Oh, poor frail humanity
Weeps loud for help from God
Stripped naked of vanity
But clothed by Church's rod
Oft blames higher diety
Whenever hurts befall
Yet pats the back do we
When luck gives us a call
Strong are those who meet
Kismet with good grace
Just thank the Lord and greet
Lifes' venture with smiling face.
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