Through chance
I stumble upon topics
Snap at fleeting ideas
Yet, chance is not purposeful
And purpose doesn't come by chance
Chance is the inverse of choice
'Cause with chance comes a choice
With choice comes a purpose to choose
Yet I struggle to reconcile
Between chance and purpose
With chance, one gains or loses
With purpose, one gives or takes
I see parallelism
In their dichotomous nature
I'm perplexed
How distant is chance
From purpose?
Like a turtle under the weight of its shell
My brain succumbed to this inquiry
Like the hump of a bison in drought
My intelligence melted away in distraught
Like earth's cumbersome mountains
I can't shrug off the burden of asking
What is chance?
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