Two paths diverge before you;
neither one is safe.
Which do you choose?
You cannot gauge the peril
nor predict which will end worse;
an impromptu viking funeral?
or crushed to death in a hearse?
There are no guarantees in life,
except that it will end;
every decision, every day
is like that fork at Junction J;
we stumble, blindly, ever forwards
with only the faintest hope
of a quick, forgettable end.