No choice

I stand in solitude I refuse to be the anchor Upon another's neck. I prepared for everything- I thought... But being murdered slowly By life itself? Now that, I did not expect. Time winds on Like it always has And perhaps it may Always be so. I have fought it, Tried to stop it. Ignored it all together And even gone with the flow. My actions Make no difference Every effort My egos illusion. Things will be What they are to be. And my want or will Have no influence upon them. Free will? Yes... Free to do as Already predetermined. Fate/destiny... Call it what you want. See it However you want to see it. It doesn't change the fact That the past until the end. Was from the future written. Like a carrier pigeon returning to the place it was born. It has no choice, by its instincts it is driven.