At the crossroad, finding self...
sometimes frenzied, sometimes calm..
sometimes elated, sometimes down.
a momentary clarity, ahead a dark cloud...
naivety in a moment, sensible from then on...

Bothered by the fork that got created, a victim's creation...
the self struggles for the non-judgement to carry on.
Finds the clock divided sometimes at the blink, sometimes ticking eon...
Amidst the tugging mind, beneath the scum, lies a light for so long.
Goes a sprint with the present, but miles identified.

Sometimes much real, sometimes a mirage...
sometimes constructed, sometimes enervated...

The footsteps tread ahead, bearing every load...
as i find myself, at the crossroad.