Many roads diverged in the yellow wood,
Shall he take the weathered one, as the mellow would?
Or burst behind the mob, as the callow would?
Cautious and dwelling, the fellow stood.
The crossroad conundrum, a decision in the null,
The question daunting, enthralling a savage pull,
Ere Janus stands, his mystic advice in full,
To marshal or mimic, but not shun in a lull.
A tale of uncommon, the affable chap,
Hoping of naught more than a thunderous clap.
The ordinary call, the trod regularly recap,
Or to fray a novel course, and build a gap?
A crafty scheme of two, destiny and destination,
The lad must brood to make up a decision.
To choose either, maybe dodge the stipulation
To outwit a god, much to his consternation.
The heart beats left, the mind whispers right,
He listens to whom, bows to whose might?
Knows not the future, the Holy Grail in sight,
Dares to take a step, and fall in the fight?
He plays the game and wins the mete,
Picks his destination and uses the fate.
Moves a step ahead, loosens an unsolved strait.
March on steadily, there’s nothing to haste.