One fickle second
Of mad fortune’s tastes
To cripple your empire
And spoil your grace.
Such calculated systems
On sadistic order based
So proud and so erect
So ripe to be erased.
You wait, oh so patient
As your power accumulates.
You measure, oh so careful
As your path illuminates.
In one fickle second
Every effort goes to waste.
Every plan and every conquest
Exploding in your face.
All discipline is vain,
All masters are replaced.
A single fickle second
Is all it even takes.
Every certain truth is only ever partly so,
The Golden Apple Goddess smiles, for she knows.
To those who struggle desperately for some sense of control,
Discordia’s afflux, both above and so below.
Love these descriptions that symbolize power! Great work.
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