MetalMachine489

I stand upon the brink of destiny My tired feet lying upon the forked road Dusty from the bleak dirt road of things long forgotten My own prints lost within the legion of those who came before Diverging into two paths to the right and left of me As I gaze wearily around me, I hear two voices in my head The demons, who wish me to go to the left towards the gloomy mountains Whose seductive lies and deceits are as transparent as glass They mean for me to become lost and frightened So I may fall under their reign and become their slave And my conscience, which begs me to go right, into the bright rolling plains But I refuse