DESTINY

Destiny a mystery tell me who would you be,
labor of my deed or born of distant stars.
Why were some born in hierarchy so high,
and the rest in the womb of menial class?

How come some have wings to soar in sky,
others trudge a graveled path and but sigh.
Why few get to bask in their glorious past,
While the rest reclusive and as a outcast?

Why some are born with the golden spoon,
While the rest in poverty of hunger swoon?
If destiny it's thou that makes the man great,
than I bow to thee in thy hands i put my fate.

But if labor be the one that wins in the end,
than I will not give in but work hard and fend.