Come Destiny, thou wild haired, wanton wench!
Thou wouldst as soon destroy as e’en behold
Come pluck me from this wooden student’s bench
My soul with awesome, windy wings enfold!
I see thee, waiting near me in the wood
So vigilant — I never see thee sleep
Thine rapier drawn, on this side of it good
The other evil far away to keep
Yet should I slip upon the twisting path
Or fail to see a sign, or miss a door
I know I should incur thine instant wrath
Nor be permitted earthly light the more
For ’twas to thee that I was consecrate
When midwifed by the iron hand of fate
Among us, poets are not paid. The poet/editor of this website, being physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level, and currently lives in her vehicle. Become a patron of the fine arts by making a donation at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts