Together now, we bare our skin
to fate’s sharp claws and broken grin.
We raise our voices, rough and bright,
and toast the teeth that gnash the night.
O, let the heavens spit and sneer
I welcome every wound and fear.
Each arrow loosed, each hour’s loss,
I claim them all and love the cost.
Let ruin rain, let thunder start,
let loss carve letters in my heart.
I’ll kiss the hand that strikes me down
and wear disaster as my crown.
For joy is brief, and pain is sure,
yet I will not seek to endure
but praise the pattern, grim and true:
the world as is, and I anew.
Amor Fati: this is my creed
to feed on fortune’s thorns and bleed,
and loving every scar I see,
become the fate that fashioned me.