Poems: A Fork of Roads

A fork of roads: two strangest paths,
Doth thou cower, doth thou pass?
For life is but a branching tree, so full of intrigue, all for thee,
Or is it yet more like a game?
I know this not, but it's the same,
One outcome with no better name,
Its name is death, and it's no game.

Before all that, we still have time,
To see ourselves in fear and blame,
And tarnish, bother, worry, shame.

What is this life we try to live?
Why do we bother, where's it said...
That we must fight each day for bread?

Remember friend, you still have time,
To lead a life worthy of shine,
To say to those who worry, heed!
It need not be such pain for bread!

But there's a cost, this life of ours,
The cost for it is simple but, it swallows men with braver blood,
The cost is this, and it's a twist,
The cost is pain, and endless dread,
I jest of course, it's not the same,
The price is love,
And love's not pain.

"Which path to take, which one's for me?"
It does not matter, you will see,
The end's the same, it's all a game,
Let not it cleave yourself in twain,
The journey's different, that's the game,
And that is where you'll see the flame,
The flame of life, that endless spire,
No pain nor dread, nothing so dire.

But in your heart you still have doubt,
For one is brighter, more devout,
"One path shines more, the other's lame!"
Let me console, to your disdain,
That both paths shine about the same.