Fatalist Poem by Jill Burns

I held the candle,
warm and bright
I sat it down and walked away,
leaving the light

The objects that lay in my way,
are still blurry and grey
And the reasons behind them,
are still dark as night

I sat fire to the path made for me,
showing them the wrath they were so willing to see

Many create their own fate,
living in hate
And those who don't,
don't because they won't

Making your own life creates pain,
and sometimes you get to a point where you're preying for rain
And you know you'll always ask yourself...
Is there anything to gain?

But this is what I chose,
and to the world, it shows
and where it'll end, nobody knows