T’was a lad on a hilltop
He placed a hand over his brow
He looked here and there
From right to left, left to right
He focused his sight far away
There… a hot white wall, he saw
Empty, vacant and nothing at all
He wanted to see far more beyond
What would happen to his soul
In the next fifty years?
Nobody could put in the picture
Only God for sure can tell
Life is fore ordained by the Divine
T’was a lad on a mountain top
He insisted to know his future
God wouldn’t talk or answer
He searches then for the elusive quest
He found Babalawo and Shamen
Destiny you’re looking for?
It is a fixed sequence of events
Inevitable, unchangeable
Like a bullet that has your name on it
We can’t foretell, we don’t know
But the lad continued his search
He met Moirae and Parcae
When your number comes up, they say
T’was a lad on Mount Everest
A meeting between Tyche, Fortuna and him
Destiny is like the flowering of a romance
That has meant to be, they say
There was Nonus the Norse goddess
He saw her spinning the threads of destinies
Each thread represents individual’s fate
Choose then your destiny, she said
And once you’re on your path
It’s interchangeable! So…
The lad came down to earth, depressed
He’ll never know what his fate was