Does free will exist?

In the human convention of living,

I am beginning to feel like an intruder.

A silent observer.

Every action seems to be dictated

by the thread of an unsung force.

My free will disappearing

in the race of persuading the choices I make.

The borrowed thoughts making their way

upon my tangled soul.

I am beginning to faint as I approach the edges

witnessing the axiom of choice

where the illusion of free will fades,

giving light to the question,

the one about the will of free will.

Does free will exist?

Perhaps it is not to be debated

but rather letting the question

be the answer in itself.

The very act of questioning the free will is evidence enough of its existence.