The Fork in the Road

the discontent and scratches
that have filled my bitter soul
my self-determination
to reach my earthly goal
the mortal independence
to be my own made man
to gather up my treasures
not to take a helping hand
the greedy gain of goodies
that in my mind abound
have blotted out the voice
of Heaven's precious sound —
the sickness and the fear
are blamed on God, unpraised
to spend in bitter anger
to waste those last few days
the discontent grows stronger
the scars show their ugly face
and my self determination
is only just a taste
of my mortal independence
that now begs for help
and all those earthly treasures
well, what good is all that wealth?
for the sound of God comes closer
and my stubborn does not cease
and I know that death is waiting
but in me is no peace
for I had pondered the narrow
but chose to carry my own load
and left behind, forever
the fork in the road