A Not-For-Profit Organization

Picked by chance in stakes of happenstance that fall like snowed flakes;

Unique our time is chosen.

Does this mean

The time inbetween

That is less serene

When compared to this magical moment.

Is proof of a captured chance  taken away to be locked in a cage.

Yes, a cube where luck is frozen.

This would indicate a key to fate that must be hidden;

For the cage is not a cage but a treasures chest.

Yes, a prism where all good things reside in.

It must be this phantom key

That teleports from you to me,

During seasons of serendipity

Unlocking welcomed opportunity among territories far & near;

Ubiquity, the essence of freed equality.

Once hinged? Perhaps. Till fate proclaims the lock be opened.

Now I question the phantom holder;

As Grim is the Reaper,

Whom is the one that bestows Luck upon the beholder?

The sole being that looms in levy against boredome, grief,

& all of circumstances considered miserable

A forgotten travesty of the chief of glee;

To ignore such a beings presence henceforth from now.

As Luck would have it, I bow unto this light formidable.

And at the knee, Yes near my shoe.

"Would you look at that!", A penny bright in copper hue.

Is this symbology of a presidents head,

A key or a clue?

In opposition from what we perceive under a latter or passinga black cat.

Yes, instead comfort is given from a rabbits leg or a dead man in a black top hat

Due to notariety of these infamous signs,

Should I supersticiously follow them blind;

To believe in generational myths of things I randomly find.

Who made these rules - 

Yes! Who pathed the path to such a precarious line?

Perhaps it is time to give heed in regards to what we believe.

As Luck's origins are a mystery,

Our fate does not have to be.

That being said,

Repeat after I.

Farewell Good Luck

For I am the key to a future fortunately blessed.

M'Yes...

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- RwitiwЯ

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