Death is inevitable, so fate in this way must be true. But I also believe there is a place for free will in whatever you may determine as not being inevitable, like hot fudge or sprinkles.
A hardened heart in a frosty knoll
Chest of compressed grasses
Is a frigid, fragile, undressed soul
Hidden as it passes
Through you, what you never controlled--
All warmth one day traded for cold.