THE COLD PATH

THE COLD PATH

I had threaded that one straight path
Never for once had it split into parts
With little or no choice
I ran along, not having to think twice
But suddenly I found myself on a junction
The need arose to make a decision

One path was smooth and crystal clear
And the journey seemed easy to bear
But the end of it, I was not sure
Prevention, they say, is better than cure

The other path was crooked
The painful journey quickly makes one aged
It was narrow and cursed with bends
But there is a crown at its end

So I took the road, rough and rocky
How I wish I had a donkey.
With thorns tearing at my skin
I struggled along a path void of friend or kin

Walking along the I met a large river
“oh God, I am done for” I did mutter
A weary bridge I must cross
It’s hinges sways with rusts.
I climbed the bridge and held my breath
With each successful step a narrow escape from death

A voice told me I should have taken the easy way
I would have danced excitedly under the sunlight ray
Nevertheless I decided to maintain my course
To quit there was no cause
The end of the bridge is on sight
There is no other way that is right
And the crown looks brighter
No destination can be better

I decided to burn the bridge behind me
No turning back, the end I must see

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