Poetry

We stood at a cross-road
Each deciding on which to take
Suddenly you lifted the lamp of love
Then we saw this way you lead
So smooth was this road at eve
Our steps each spelt doom
Yet we evade gloom
But today we sit in gloom silence
This road has its rules;
When I fall you lift,
When you fall I lift.
Now is our fall
We should lift
Our part of the rules