Is my destiny then one
Of perpetual sorrow
Of cold, sullen stone
On my sky-line tomorrow
No mediation
For this internal war
Is my destination
Defined by the score
Of an internal tally
Of triumph and defeat
A meaningless rally
Of advance and retreat?
Is destiny soil
And a stone on a grave?
The reward for toil
Of which I’ve become slave?
With never a hand
To withdraw the knife
From the heart of a man
In this thing called life
Is there no relief
Or propitiation?
Is this infernal grief
Then my destination?
If hope were a phantom
As fleeting as fame
Or love an emotion
Gone like the wind
If life was a dance
Without any song
Or destiny chance
With no right or wrong
If fate was the power
Of all powers that be
Perpetual sorrow
Would be my destiny
But there is Jesus
There is Calvary
There is Heaven
My destiny
All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin
