What Is done has been done,
There is no life of waste,
Whether I lost or won ,
Just depends on my taste,
And control there is none,
Whether I slow or haste,
May be worth a whole ton,
But its commonly based,
There are much roads to choose,
In this play we call life,
And we haste our hopes through,
Though the message is rife,
Whether lies or the truth,
Its as clear as a fife,
And this verse is the proof,
Sometimes there is no fight,
Cause of thy strings of fate,
Which are deeply controlled,
Through the higher estates,
They take hold of our roles,
With the keys to our gates,
Sometimes leads us to hold,
What is up to our pace,
Cause of this bind toll,
Through the times I’ll realize
That the fates need my kiss,
So I could stay alive,
‘And contain all the bliss,
In which hate’s been revised,
It would be one’s real wish,
To control every life,
But without my own fist,
To do wrong or do right,
Just may be on their list…
