Three roads diverged in a rotted wood,
And thankful I could not take all three,
I turned my back and gazed above
Through the blackened, naked branches
Of a ghastly old oak tree.
The stars were smiling, winking down
At where I stood small and lonely on the ground.
My palms reached upward, I knew not what to do –
The sky was cradled in my arms,
Warm and lovely, just like you.
The night whispered softly in my ear,
“It matters not how far you go,
I’ll hold your hand, my dear.”
The words were simple, true, and strong,
And in my heart I locked them tight to always hear their song.
I realized then the path for me
Was neither the one taken by he nor she,
Nor even the path which you have chose
With the tropics at your fingertips and sand between your toes;
My path leads where only the shadows know.
A tear trickled down from the sky,
Landed on my cheek, and gave me a chill.
A spot on the horizon caught my eye;
It was the dawn dancing merrily over a hill.
I shivered, bid the fading stars adieu.
I’ll take my own road, tread alone,
My footsteps in a barren place
Where none have dared to roam.
I’ll forge my own path to travel by,
And that makes all the difference.