Cycling through existence

The gods of fate and time are somewhere laughing their ass off
The tightly wound destiny of blunders keeps replaying itself
It's either fear or comfort or the path of least resistance
Bifurcating the roads ahead
There has to be a lesson in courage being served
With all the tasty ingridients of a sad comedy of errors.
But, as the saying goes, what doesn't kill you will make you stronger
Or just prolongue the inevitable death.
Hopefully the body will go
Before the death of heart and spirit.
It's funny really ... how sometimes when the path seems clear
There's that shiny object yonder which takes us away from our path
can we resist and move forward
Or does the cycle begin again ...
I'm wont to theorize that we're born and reborn all in this life time
There is no other life to try to be

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