I was walking along this beautiful road
But it abruptly came to an end,
Like all beautiful things do.
Beyond this, the road had two different paths
Divergent, yet similar.
One, adorned with yellow roses,
The other, red ones.
Each was equally pretty, each equally inviting.
How could I choose? Oh, how could I?
Just as I was about to
Turn back and go home,
Planning on keeping the sweet hours
Spent on the road
Jailed forever in my heart
Ignoring either of the paths,
The path with yellow roses
Seemed to cry out loud.
It wanted me.
The red one though,
It was indifferent,
Or so I thought.
I couldn’t decide.
The red path with its fierce egoistic winds
And immense self respect
Somehow seemed to push me off towards the other path.
For it, this ego went above everything else.
That’s when I sensed the rivalry between the two streets.
Yet the winds pushed me on the path with yellow roses so harshly
That I was left with no choice anymore.
Abandoning the red roses
I walked on the yellow rose street,
comforting myself by believing,
‘The thorns were too many near the red roses.’
And so I walked and walked on,
Not once looking back,
But still deep within waiting for the red path to call me,
A slight, a very slight and tender invite did call me,
But it went as soon as it came.
The two roads, opposite to each other, rivals, expected me to choose, but how could I?