“Hand that stretched - continued......

Trying to understand who acts how, what happens to human emotions now, casting them in the crucible of endless strifes,
Forcing them to walk on the edges of sharp knives, and making them battle against their own lives,

Whereas in reality it plays this out at its own will, creating situations that save and many that kill,
For life is like a river endlessly trying to perfect the human desires and human will,

Without knowing one true aspect of human life, that life which represents everything,
Will never understand, because human mind and heart are unlike anything; like it there is nothing,

So the man may keep stretching his hand and people may offer him different glances,
But I know just like few others, that it is life perfecting what it calls “chances!”

For it does not like to be blamed for human pain or misery,
Then it would evolve into a guilt becoming the graveyard of its acts so unsavory,

So it has invented a perfect cliche called chance and fate,
To evade cosmic prosecution of its actually diabolic actions and its rotten state,

But the pain of the stretched hand will one day become its cause of doom,
I can already see the clouds of change, and clouds of grotesque gloom that over it already loom!”