The Consequence of Choice

We allowed ourselves to wander
to where the borders of our minds were mapped,
and found the hand of Eros, underlining chaos,
that was once enchained, entrapped.

We saw realistic dreams being disillusioned,
and paraded illusions being sold as reality,
while the order of constraint weighed heavy at our heals,
still we choose to walk this tight rope, of our dwindling sanity

We reach a left hand towards the extraordinary,
but clench the familiar within our right.
Our ambivalent feet are feebly, struggling to adhere,
Yet, maintains pace in fear, of vehemence strong willed might.

The voice of Daedalus, forges wind with every breath,
that resonates assurance of escape and disarray,
weaving through the wreckage below,
in solemn quest for corpses, of morals led astray.

Each step we take as funambulist, ensures sanity intact.
But we can’t look away, we can’t look down,
just maintain the balance, just creep wearily on.

Then at the end I could keep my heart,
and you can keep your crown.