I hold in my hand a goblet
Filled to the brim in hemlock
But I hesitate to sip
For it would surely **** me
I am in a state of pinnacle truth
Of pure control
For I can end it all
Or carry on

You carry the same goblet
Filled with whatever may **** you
Sometimes you are thirsty
And yearning to drink
To find comfort in that sip
When you feel like your life
Spirals into shredded paper
Or saw dust on the floor
But you hold that goblet
You control that cup
And no matter the moment
You are in control.