He waits at dawn with coffee in hand,
She calls at midnight with a reckless plan.
One offers roots, the other wings,
Both pull at the heart with different strings.
Do I choose the fire or the steady flame?
The whispered secret or the one who knows my name?
Love’s not a path, it’s a quiet war,
Between what I want and what I’m fighting for.
I stand between them, heart split in two,
Wishing the answer would just walk up and choose.