And your heart was a slave to it,
Your senses longed for something far away,
That is non-existent,
Without experience you had no gauge,
By which to judge the erring of your ways,
Though, you always knew deep in your heart,
It wouldn't matter what your father says,
And so even your successes had tinges of doom,
And there were even those who portended ill,
Until the world was so against your wishes,
That that, itself, steeled your will.
And it's alright,
Maybe your fate is worth the knowledge that,
Despite all odds, you listened to your desires,
And will never wonder, "If I had, then what?"
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