The Story by Sur-Sol
The story happens to begin when to this world we enter in. We have no choice, there is no "why?" We live our lives and then we die.
But in-between these two events, we form ourselves until we're spent. Not wasting too much time on thoughts of "why" or in it's web we're caught.
Questions with no answers found, destined futility bound. Wondering on occasion's fine sans yielding to obsession's pine.
Take care to focus energy in times and places it should be, dwell where endless loops abound and at life's end there you'll be found.
Start not chosen, fate we make. No going back, make no mistake. Difficult though easier now than hope regret will mend somehow,
the wrongs of carelessness or choice or improper use of voice. But human we can still expect to have occasions to reflect
on things seen more clearly now, we'd really like to change somehow. Live and learn lessons therein, don't obsess on such no-win.
For all such futile thought can do is take more energy from you. Just forge ahead play to win or others in our place go in.
Spend the time as well one should; concentrate on doing good. Good for yourself, for others too. And when in need, you'll get help too.
Often not how we'd have thought, by method or as others ought. Yet it will happen, it's decreed that you'll receive as sewn, indeed.
Far easier the selfish way how many go therein today? But in the end their loss is known but it's too late, their chance is blown.
Ask not what is your reward, just keep going, move toward the final product, you; your best. When your task is done you'll rest.
Until that day we've work to do, don't look around, it's up to you. For in the end we'll stand or fall on our own merit. Answer the call.
The answer's easy, the travel hard until this body we discard. So discipline, don't take the bait as others who will seal their fate.
They fear hard work and make excuse, they'll work too little, they're of no use. Living for their own excess they fail to see their life a mess.
Until the day the bill is due, too late to mistakes undo. Pay no heed to lazy souls keep working hard to reach your goals.
Your good advice to no avail? Chin up my friend and you'll prevail. At such times just take a break, massage the joints from work that ache.
Through the story we will tend to want to know how it will end. Tempted that the end in mind will help us on our way in kind.
We'll find attributes more keen when path we walk cannot be seen. And so we walk the path each day, the only answer come what may,
The story isn't finished yet, destined demands in life not met.
When last line we write, we'll go....rest assured, the first to know.
How great the joy we'll feel indeed, when aft straight and narrow freed, trail of tears long past begun, we hear those final words, "Well done!"
