Serpentine Answers
What has become of me?
A stupid question,
But the answer is more than complicated,
It is serpentine.
I mark the miles in lazy essโs,
The many that were and the few ahead.
The path was set from start to stop.
Yet what made one step follow another
Is still a profound mystery,
So many choices, so many decisions.
So much chaos, so much confusion.
Ah, yes. The mystery of free will.
A nexus here, a locus there,
Every choice bounded by circumstance
And my own failings and strengths
And the colour of my umbrella
And the time of day.
What choice had I at the time?
I was compelled to do what I did.
I am here to prove
That it could not be otherwise
Else how could I be here?
My free will was subverted by circumstance.
I was directed to this place
Yet could easily have been somewhere else
And therein lies the question before me,
A question so simple and direct;
Why?
I could go here, I could go there.
Every choice before me
Teeters on the edge of a knife.
Why this and not that?
Why here and not there?
Why now and not then?
Why me and not you?
I had the illusion of choice
But my choices were circumscribed.
All just a game,
A magicians trick,
An illusion
To confuse snd misdirect.
When called to account
Can I declare โI had no choiceโ,
Or must I take ownership
Of my choices?
God forbid.
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