I wonder if there is a thing
such as fate
Or if for destiny,
We're all too late?

Do we write our own stories,
or is God our author?
Should we praise him for our glories,
or curse him for our horrors?

Are we responsible for us,
or should we shift the blame?
Who is there to truly trust,
If we are all sinful just the same?

If love cannot be made or fixed,
is it forever broken?
What's here for us in this cruel mix?
I feel of my soul I have been stolen.