Does a flower not bloom,
For the fear of losing her nectar?

Does a doe not give birth,
Knowing her child may be prey to the predator?

Does a spider not weave her web,
Though she sees it fall apart before her eyes?

Yes, the 'world' may rip you off all that you made...
Yes, the 'world' may kick aside all that you carefully put together...
Yes, the 'world' may thanklessly take away all that you held dear...

But is that reason enough to be like the world?
To bury your conscience; to be blind to the truth?

For is it the world that you shall have to answer?
Is it this world that will question you?

In the end, is it the world that shall haunt your dreams?
Is it this world that will give you refuge?

Is it not yourself you shall have to fall back on?
Is it not yourself that will ultimately be your guide?

You choose the self that will stay;
The self you came into the world with,
Or the self the world came into...

Yes, you choose the self.