The Crossroads

I stand at the edge of the roads that meet,

Each one stretching far, uncertain, incomplete.

The air is heavy, the silence deep,

As the weight of the moment begins to seep.

One path is golden, smooth, and wide,

A journey easy, with nothing to bide.

But shadows play where the sunlight lies,

And the truth beneath wears a clever disguise.

The other twists through the wild unknown,

A jagged trail where seeds are sown.

It calls with whispers soft and low,

Of trials faced and wisdom to grow.

My feet hesitate, my heart holds still,

Caught between fear and the strength of will.

For each road chosen, one is lost,

And every step comes at a cost.

I take a breath, I feel the weight,

And leave behind the hand of fate.

The path I tread becomes my own,

The seeds I plant, the fields I’ve sown.

At the crossroads, I finally see,

The journey ahead is what shapes me.

Not the path, not the ease, not the way it bends,

But the courage it takes to see where it ends.