Fate.  It’s a blanket we can never throw off.  It covers us, smothering us in its shadowy folds.  It wraps us, caresses us as it’s own, but will never let us go.  We think our lives are of our own choosing, yet when we look back at where we have come from, we only begin to realize that everything we have done, we have done according to a plan predetermined.  Fate.  Like a creature of the night it is always there, hovering over our shoulders, whispering its wishes.  It’s a devil, allowing us to run for a time, and then bends the road to lead us back where we are meant to be.  Fate.  It’s it the puppeteer, pulling our strings as it sees fit, making us jump, run, and fly.  Fate.  We may think ourselves strong and powerful able to overcome anything thrown in our path.  We may have an iron clad mind and strong bodies but there are some things that can never be fought.   The master chess player positions his pieces in a cold and calculating manner, preparing for the final strike that will slay his opponent, so is fate with us.  It moves us like pieces on a board, preparing us for our final date with destiny.  Fate.  Kick and scream as we may, we can never escape it.  We run and run and run, trying to escape it.  We do all we can to try to thwart its will, but it is all in vain.  No matter what we do, it’s will is unshakable.  It is a domineering force, an immovable, unshakable object in our path.  We try to find a way around it.  We leave home, thinking it will leave us alone.  We change towns, names, lifestyles…alter all we can to try to change the will of the heavens, but to no avail.  Fate.  The wise man accepts it as we would a warm blanket on a cold winter’s day.  Allow it to wraps it gentle arms around us and accepts its energy.  For the more we struggle and fight, the more we strangle ourselves in its folds.  Feel its hands wrap around you like a warm blanket, or a loving mother.  Accept it, and the pain will be easier to bear…fight it, and you will wish you were dead.  The pain that will follow when you fight what cannot be fought is like being pierced with a thousand wounds…and yet not dying.  It is not a pain that can be overcome, or you become accustomed to, but one that never subsides, and never eases.  It will be agony for all your remaining days.  Accept the hand that life has dealt you, and grow to be thankful for what you have been given, not complain for not getting something better.  Fate…the master puppeteer.