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