We Succumb To Fate Poem by Michelangelo Onicha

The past came calling,
look at me running, falling,
nature watch me defying,
my honour and glory are fast dying,
now my main job is wandering, wondering,

well in life you hate wrath taste,
as a human, you have a lot to gain and waste,
though on our face our shame we paste,
with gold and purple our image we try to paint,
but in the end, we succumb to fate,

life is a transient dream
that flows through a cold sullen stream,
only the foolish get a drink,
the wise manipulates and sinks,
we take chances and win,

in the market of life, we price shades of sin,
and with a web of lies, we buy our coffin,
then with a basket of guilt, we celebrate our acquired sins,
and with glutton upon greed, we sloth in our griefs,
though the voice in the wilderness cries, we have our unending streak.