fate
is like
a rigid creature who sets
the strict, unyielding stonework of life
into narrow jagged roads
without allowing the chance of escape,

luck
is like
a cloudless spirit who
pursues its eye’s lust
and endows treasured golden rain onto
citizens of misfortune in an aimless way,

destiny
is like
a crinkled bloodless paper
who wraps and folds itself into silhouettes
of yielding bridges for
the optimistic explorers of an impaired future,

and

chance
is like
a mangled, rotten beast whose
bloated certificate of bitter ruin
will be released to greedy relatives
who only want the silver wealth