Fate

Isn’t it ironic?
The concept of our life
That everything we work for
Will undoubtedly die
The beauty of our faces
The muscle that we’ve toned
The high paying job we worked for
The objects in our home
The thoughts we think important
The ones we surely don’t
The memories now filling us with bliss
And of course the ones that won’t
Our dearest friends
Our family
No one shall escape
The one thing guaranteed to everything
Will also be our fate