Fate’s Game
by Odin Roark

Like innocent spray atop a tsunami curl,
You ride your controlled serendipity,
Delivering surety in an unexpected twist,
Destiny’s setup for drama that follows.

Never satiating your alacrity,
You fish-oil-coat your barbed cunning,
Slipping lathered lures easily
Down gullible throats of anticipation.

For you,
Making another landfall
Is just another layer
Added to your flotsam-beach theatrics,
Designed like playful foreshadowing
For a planned second and third act dénouement.

Oh how you chortle
Amid your game of certainty,
Bedding the unsuspecting like a predestinate,
A loan-out reality guised in wet dream duplicity,
Arousing our trust,
Yet never awarding a curtain call
Of our own choice.

Quandary persists.

After all,
Like nature’s often sardonic casting,
You are fate,
The ever-floating understudy,
An ineluctable wave-curl in waiting,
An unrevealed power we know not of
Until…