How much of my will is purely my own,
Without someone's guide to help me along:
To push me forward, to lead me towards home;
Or to steer me away from doing wrong?
It seems as though all my decisions were inspired,
Without much thought or fault of their own,
Nothing of my intent or my inner fire…
But moreover, what is left alone?
How much had been dictated by unseen forces,
Pointing me towards every book I have ever read?
How long had my loved ones served as my own sources,
Planting seeds of great ideas I may have in my head?
To all these questions and more, no one will likely ever get the true answers:
In this game we "choose" to play, we learn the given steps and be our own dancers.