One day I may be just so tired of these return trips
I’ll just be done with it…
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One day I may be just so tired of these return trips
I’ll just be done with it…
Right now it’s just a distant memory
As if long gone, but I know better
So now is the time to arm myself
Choose the weapons, don the armour
Smiling all the while, enjoying this time…
Cobain sang about not having a gun, but ate a 20-gauge.
Benington…
Avicii…
I would love to believe that if they had chosen the other path, they would be glad today that they did.
How do others find the courage?
If I can’t get better, maybe I’d rather reach that level where I can finally act rather than remain in limbo.
I meet fork after fork after fork in the road.
Every single time I circled back here
through my entire life I have persisted to the right,
side-eying the forgone left as I carry on,
wondering if it was really the best choice.
Today I am both nothing and far too much.
Surely, one day this well will run dry.
This “Balrog” certainly has it’s own agenda — it has only one direction it wants me to take.
That beast comes at me with a new fury.
It’s rabid, vapid, and it’s preparing to charge.
It’s enraged at the sight of me and on a wild offensive now.
I know you’re tired of the shifting
Between shimmering and rotting…