So that’s the way it is, my God, no chance
to rectify the past, to make amends;
on, ever on, allowed no backward glance,
no means to justify whatever ends:
each eager ‘now’ no sooner here than gone,
ensnared within the present’s fleeting frame.
What’s done always irrevocably done;
a baffled player in a cryptic game.
Despite the darkness, of your life make light;
there’s little choice in any path you choose.
Be confident - each battle that you fight
is but a skirmish in a war you’ll lose;
remember this, when life begins to fade,
you’ll find yourself upon the bed you made.