Like a spider, Fate awaits
 Inside eternity,
Devising traps of circumstance
 No mortal can foresee.

She strings her web around the years
 With silver strands of time,
Creating patterns for our lives
 Both dreadful and sublime.

Although we flutter aimlessly
 Around perdition's flame,
Someday she'll snatch us from our flight
 To play her fearful game.