The path we don't chose, for it is set
woven like the yarn of fisherman net.
The chaos, tribulation and days will pass,
as sands do the hourglass.
Is it foretold or left to chance,
one step, two step continues this dance.
We are but pawns of this game,
driven by the institution, doubt and blame.
We must find the luster our beacon of hope,
and not sacrifice life.
For a decaying bank note.