Since Power Is In The Hand Of Destiny Poem by Gert Strydom

Since power is in the hand of destiny
and over my mortality it holds the key
and my time, my position, my life is measured out
and not even human love can save me

from the rushing boundless sea
that is trying to encompass me, as if with glee,
alone I struggle on against the dark night
with nowhere to hide, nowhere to flee

and your youth, your wealth and even your beauty
cannot change this to any degree
and even if you hasten to my side
I do not lend myself to charity:

let become what is destined and let things be,
to God I render my only plea.