Fate

Opinions always will differ
A bowl of arguments they stir
Beliefs have always ruled our brains
And they have been the cause of pain
If one believes that he is good
All those around will make a blur
Upon his mind, his eyes, his soul
They will create a deep, dark hole
And in this hole a new world forms
Filled with hurricanes and storms
The sacred ashes of one's joy 
A small memento of their toy

verse

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