Without Script

Playing on the stage
We each play our part —
Never knowing our lines
We make them on the spot

The play flows on
Characters slip offstage
Amid shifting scenes
New ones keep showing

Free will —
They do have
To keep crafting their lines
And remaking their scripts

Predestined, their fate is —
For each of them will fade
As the dreamer turns —
Their traces, their words
Vanishing in its wake

Still, within the passing play
If you wander without script
What can possibly go wrong

You can’t possibly go wrong
Wrong could only exist
If there were a script