# To fulminate against the hands of fate To vent our anger on beloved friends Will not repair our ills and our mistakes But may bring friendships to a bitter end. For who are we to know what is the best? Who are we to choose when loved ones die? And do not think this is a needed test. As if on us God wastes his time to spy. Once we were a joining of two cells The lively sperm, a salmon riding high. The egg awaiting without need for bells Is fertilised and grows that which shall die. Astonishing that we should live at all. Unsurprising, that a loved one falls.