The Choice

 .
 .
 .
 And then I came to Three ways,
And each was mine to choose;
For all of them were free ways,
To take or to refuse.

"Now which shall be the best way,
East, West or South?" said I .
 .
 .

So then I went the West way -
I often wonder why.
 

.
 .
 .
 And then I cam to Two ways,
And each was luring me:
For both of them were new ways,
And I was fancy free.

"Now which shall be the least way,"
Said I: "to gain my goal?"
And so I took the East way,
With freedom in my soul.
 

.
 .
 .
 And then I came to One way,
And to the South it ran;
Then lo! I saw this sun way
Was mine since time began;
My pitiless, my doom way;
No other could there be,
For at its end my tomb lay,
And it was waiting me.
 .
 .
 .

Poor fools! Who think you're free.

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