In a quiet classroom, where minds convene.

With Professor Figger, wise and erudite,

From pre-existing conditions, Determination is born,

Yet, Destiny, an unseen hand, did intervene,

No whims of chance, no randomness in sight,

A destiny in numbers renewed each morn.

In this world, where patterns take their flight.

The laws of math, like silent guiding stars,

Where numbers dance and theories weave,

Held a secret, hidden from the light.

To steer events along precise, unchanging bars.

Destiny, a concept, unyielding, she came to believe.

No twist of fate, no capricious hand,

In mathematics, where equations stake their claim.

One day, after the lectures ceased to chime,

Amidst calculations, in a strict demand.

Determinism, the name it does proclaim,

Intrigued by verses, weaving in his rhyme,

She beckoned Limmit, biding him to stay,

From initial conditions, the path unfolds,

No room for chance or whimsy to implore,

His poetry, like dawn’s first light, a ray.

A journey mapped in equations, behold.

Destiny is ruled by numbers at its core.

With tender words, she broke the poet’s seal,

In this mathematical complexity, they find,

dreams that she had long concealed,

A secret yearning, only a poet’s heart can feel,

In a world determined, by rules well-defined.

A passion veiled, but now, the truth revealed.

No mysteries of fate, no randomness to tell,

Limmit, heart aflutter, stood amazed,

In the world of math, where truths remain.

Just the dance of numbers, in a logical spell.

For she, his muse, his words had deeply praised,

embraced determinism’s steadfast reign,

No destiny capricious, no random twist,

His admiration, an ember, now blazed.

Over months that passed, their worlds did entwine,

The elegance of numbers, of which they did persist.

Their shared desire, in destiny, they gazed.

Two souls in prose and verses, they’d combine.

In tandem, they explored a poet’s creed,

Limmit taught the rhythms, meters, and the line,

Destiny’s hand had played a wondrous card,

Mathematical precision, a rare need,

While Figger’s abstract thoughts, like stars, did shine.

Two kindred spirits, their emotions unmarred.

Their words, like art, from hearts did intercede,

Yet in the world of verses, they would not discard,

Destiny or Determination?

A harmonious union, passion’s heed.

Yet barriers in life’s struggles had left them scarred.

I leave it to your interpretation.