HAVE NO IDOLS
Whatever happens tomorrow, I had my ending
Whatever transpires day, I conferred with my trespasses
Whatever seeks yesterday, I too find nostalgia
The triumph that prances the Colosseum
The world's celebration The insatiable hunger and desire In attaining what was had and what will be The fly does not wish for the young fruit Nor the man for the old rotten But the ripe glistens Moon at its darkest known Is its brightest shown Whatever happens tomorrow, I find my resolve In the unknown