Some choose to take the road less traveled
Others the path of least resistance.
Some the road rough and graveled
Others one of happenstance
Yet, my dear, I chose a road
I had oft walked
Hoping that the dead end
Would now have a path
I was wrong.
I followed you,
I ran, hearing the gong
Begging it to be true
I sought light
Pure and sweet
Yet there was not a sight
No kind of treat
Just the stove of coals
That is my defeat
Yet I can't be mad
Nor sad
Nor glad
For I chose this road,
So it 'tis I who must face
The lonely walk home