Luck’s a god
And perhaps not the other way around,
The arbitrariness of it all invents the meaning
We distraughtly seek.
Your intellect’s a seed
That can wither on your mother’s manger.
Neither three kings nor a guiding star,
Just a few inches away from the manure of donkeys,
And you shall cease to be.
Luck’s an arbitrary rule
That favors a territory.
It is the tool of mendacity,
The mask of human apathy.
Luck behaves like particles
It changes positions when measured,
Perhaps, Luck is a god’s clumsy gesture.
Despite Luck’s influence
And its perceived omnipotence,
Luck easily cowersUnder the Twin Thumbs of Persistence.