Destiny chooses David: A poem 

These roses of destiny will outlive all the thorns 

For the untiring racehorse an equal foal will be born 

Colours that grow beyond the rainbow from pink to grey 

speak of the fearless warrior who vacates not, come July or May 

The foliage is always fecund where the truth is the fruit 

And as he seeks justice, he deserves the golden boot 

Lamps will be burning on his hearth all through the night 

And though the sky is moonless, the stars are shining bright 

One can tell there’s always decorum in destiny’s momentum

The brave knows his weapons echo to God’s hum 

There are solutions of finality at the end of every sum 

And if you are a traitor to him, may you be struck dumb 

There was not much promise in the desolate battlefield 

In every onlooker’s eyes, his defeat seemed sealed 

For, Goliath was thoroughly armoured and so well-steeled 

Yet, David, in his lowly sackcloth, did destiny wield