We're deluded to think we can control the game,
But really, we're just pawns, with no one to blame.
Our desires are fleeting, our efforts in vain,
We're just specks of dust, in the winds of pain.

We try to move mountains, but they don't budge,
Our screams are drowned out, by the crushing grudge.
Life takes us on a detour, to nowhere land,
And we're left with nothing, but a handful of sand.

Our passions fade, our priorities decay,
What once seemed crucial, is now just a faded gray.
We thought we'd conquer, but really we just succumb,
To the weight of our own, pathetic little drum.

We're not the masters, we're just the slaves,
To the whims of fate, and the cruel waves.
Our dreams and desires, are just a cruel joke,
A never-ending cycle, of hope and croak.