This broken destiny
That I must follow.
A purpose to be sought,
For praise to come or it to not.
Things must happen for a reason.
Each dark night has its season.
Seasons change,
And mine do too.
But there�s nothing to do,
Desperately wanting to exchange.
Questions of my purpose.
Soul escaping,
Rolling from this pen.
Rules cannot bend.
Destiny followed
And maybe fulfilled.
Pains dreadfully swallowed,
By apathy now killed.
