Oh, By the Hands of the Parcae!

The Parcae are the fates. Or Moriae, in Greek, if you wish.

I have seen too much of this world, this I know for sure,

And so much I have been through; so much I have endured.

Yet I know that my life is in their hands, oh by the hands of the Parcae!

Their all-knowing thread; my destiny, not mine.

 

Even Almighty Zeus could do nothing for me; even as I prayed,

And blessed Minerva could not impart Her wisdom to me, ever to my dismay;
And so I struggled, bound by one single thread �"

The end never seemed to come, for They did not want me dead.

 

But with each sunrise, I felt my tapestry grow complete,

And with each sunset, my soul grew more deplete;

Though the end had not yet come, They still wove my glory,

And I would toil, mining in the Gods’ sacred quarry.

 

Mars, He blessed me, as I conquered Rome,

But by the hands of the Parcae, none was my own;

The tides would turn and I would fall to despair,

But it was not my doing; why would I give a care?

 

Yet I am still alive, written in the minds and hearts,

My beloved Rome, with whom I shall never part;

By the hands of the Parcae, They wove my trials,

But I know They did not foresee my name living for such a while.

 

But while I am passed the end, I cannot help but wonder,

Do the Parcae write me now; some majestic blunder?

By the hands of the Parcae, should I ever again fall into Their mix,

Then Lord Pluto, bequeath my soul to the hands of Nyx!

Author's Note

For JCL. Which is why it's sucky.