Chooser Tis I Chosen. How could I refute? How could I run? Yet it only seems right. You saw fit that I should be Chosen. Despite my longing for another’s I know tis mine. I take it that I shouldn’t complain And instead embrace But what man shall I be If I do not question? I only seek understanding, knowledge For my obligations. I’m sure you’ve got some to spare. Perhaps you require me to laze And convey unto you my dilemmas. But how must a man know If ye dare not give even the slightest of hints Well, Then so it is And so it shall be done.
The unending fight between the Chooser and the Chosen.