Written by Adam M. Snow
How cruel is fate,
throwing a fork in my road?
But I berate
that my dues be owed.
I took the path most trod upon,
not the road less traveled.
It took me pass the rising dawn,
what seemed to not unraveled.
It took me down a narrow pass,
into a shrouded night.
But if it be, let it be: Alas!
To see my doleful plight.
But woe was I, deceived
to linger in my demise,
that my fate is bereaved
and so shall I rise.