Regardless of whether its schema can be ascertained, what is certain is the power these enigmatic forces exert on our world. Like a deer drawn to water, like hunting parties drawn to survey their prey, the fate of the minds of men is like a canyon cut away by the river of the metaphysical. The image of our minds is woven into its macrame sic passim via these most ineffable structures of the metaphysical and its shadow. The Earth's firmament is like any organic life's starting point. Rains fall from the heavens; their waters' ebb and flow thereby cutting away the terrain that preordains the fate of men. Whether its face is lost to the sands of time or is inescapablity exigent, this enigmatic metaphysical prognostication is relentless. It is all consuming, all containing and determines the steps you take, regardless of the paths you make.