Many Roads Poem by chad fisher
Many Roads
The golden rays, and heatened days.
Memories upon me, nothing but a dream.
This is a cursed time, and yet strangely a time to rejoice.
For there are many roads I could travel through.
Which too choose, overwhelmed, too many ways.
Ah is it but to choose, I must, I must it would seem.
But, dear friend I say, what is the right choice.
What would you tell me? Which way to go? If only I knew.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 5:02:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
