Fatalist

Why do we ask why when so far, all has been for naught

Why do we wonder about the failures we've wrought

Are we the imperfect, the broken, a choice unchosen

Are we forever damned, cursed, by fear unspoken

Should we never ask, never accept the difficult task

Why do we do this?

When we hurt, why does everything crash and burn

Is our disease fatalism, an axis upon which life turns

Have we just committed to failing, to avoid drama

Did we choose our path for a result of less trauma
Our journey is one we obviously must take, so why ask
So if we ask, what is the point?

We must think knowing brings an agency
That having a choice gives us a way to win
Life doesn't work that way, even if you try
If victory doesn't happen, or come from within
Perhaps it comes from doing something well
Regardless of destiny or fate
Regardless of Heaven or Hell