Predilection and Prediction

Gentle vibrations
May conduct the striations
To the cruelest of
These cold destinations

For while fate has a heart
It has no mind to cart
Us to where
We wished at the start

Indeed, she's robotic
And though it's quixotic
I learn to predict her
And she makes me neurotic

No caution may keep
Life's tragedies asleep
And fortune knows best
When to rest.