The Crossroads
How can you live
knowing and feeling
your life you could give
to something of meaning?
Lemmings off a cliff
you all run together
to a contemptible dream.
As birds of a feather
you could have had clouds,
why trade honor and glory
for security’s shroud?
Is it all really worth it,
this world you strive after;
so fleeting, so shallow,
earning nothing but laughter.
Or perhaps a sad tear
from great men long gone;
or the souls of your children
who wait to be born.
To the same life you’re leading:
weak comforts, large pains.
In ten thousand years
it will all be the same.
One sad existance,
the same hollow shell.
Why won’t you admit it?
Normal is Hell.
To throw off what’s accepted,
to finally believe in
yourself or
something more than wealth, food, or semen
that awaits you out there
if you open your eyes
out of your trance
of fear induced lies
planted by a self
that cannot seek more
than a home, sex and wealth
that’s rotting your soul
while burying your diamonds
of dreams under coal.
I’m wasting my time;
choose your own road.
You could walk the line
or take the hearth and the
home. I’ve forsaken;
I stand out alone
fighting for glory
love, faith, dreams and thrones
upon which sat men
the world still remembers.
Though their fires long gone
by the light of their embers
I’m finding a way
to my own place among them.
Will you join me or stay
here, without risk, without glory
or come with me to face
all the world’s fury?
To battle for dreams
over mountains, through valleys
and in falling for honor
find life, everlasting?