When I wonder back down the paths of my past
I find myself upon crossroads
two paths of choice
to the left the path is clear and smooth
Flecks of sunlight dart from stone to stone
Music seeps from the distance
unknown words make sense in my mind
A gentle breeze urges me onwards
The nape of my neck relaxes
Christmas lights sprarkle
Laughter falls from the walls and whirpools my feet.
To the right the path is lined with shards of glass
Walls of weeds close in with speed
When I lean a little inwards
Faceless men dresed in black
scatter soil into the an unamed grave
Someone screams, startled birds take flight
Pain echoes for eternity
These feet can not go seperete ways
One path to choose
Sirens are seductive
Yet they never wish to let go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem