What if... something good was on its way the split moment one foot broached on the threshold of another path. A pathway that led down more arduous trails and lightening attacks that leave one shattered? What would you miss? Who would you be denying? Yourself? Your God? A crushing blow to your identity; a lessening in the ability to hold your head up. To make enemies with your own conscious. Your God knows your hunger; your thirsts; how your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. The inward cries. The minor keyed songs left unsung. Don't fool yourself. Don't look down that way. Take heed of the wrecked ships and desperate souls. Keep yourself from straying. Be a haven to those who are desperate, not a refugee yourself, except to the one whose wings are outspread over you even now.
