Paths

There were so many paths,
   so many people and signs.
The Dark Path\'s entrance lit
   with neon signs.
The Light Path not so well
   illuminated, nor trod.
But that was then
   and now has come down
to just a single path
   to signs I know
though I\'m not sure
   what language.

Paths cross
   without intersecting
and we speak,
   passing bits of road signs,
hazards, and conditions.

One tells of a narrow bridge
   over a deep chasm
he walked the edge of.

I wonder, it was something
   I\'ve passed over,
the scene is familiar
   though the memory faint.

My path is clear
   though the way ahead
is not.

A singular path, though
   others I meet
tell the same of theirs.

I\'ve had choices
   and chosen, I hope,
wisely.  And now
   there is no need
to choose, just travel.
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