Oh Fates, thy constant whining unbecoming,

you bitchy little shit!

I do acknowledge your pain nonetheless

but crippled psyche notwithstanding

admit that you have done your best.

The better times they are still coming,

so gather strength and wit!

and curb the need to fail the given test

The path you waltz along is branding

Shut up! and put your fears to rest!

You wanted glory, triumph, recognition

You yearned for praise and favour of the Gods.

Well, dearest, you have had your premonition,

Thus, flash a smile while contemplating odds.

You’ve shouted loud and entered competition,

That has no place for shaking uncouth pup.

Blame fates or your unrealised and high ambition,

They’ve heard you. Now, you either die or level up.