Apophis

On Friday, April 13, 2029, I will call.

Apophis they have named me.

If on you I should fall,

a whole region would no longer be.

With a diameter of thousand feet,

I’m not that biggest out there.

While this time we won’t meet,

next time, could be a bigger scare.

Quite a few machines,

have done a lot of math.

They have made certain it seems,

we are not on a collision path.

Until the day of the rendezvous,

I guess their word we’ll take.

Since the math I can’t do,

I pray they’re right for goodness sake.

Fate is fickle, so they say.

A near miss is great.

For on another day,

it might be question of fate.