The Choice

Crossing the blackened waters
In the peril of hope. One of the
Sweetest forms of misery. Here
I stand under the light of an empty
Moon.

Will I endure alone or will
It be with you? Through the
Early morning fog in the
Midnight sun or under a
Hunter's moon.

No more days and no more
Nights. Will I walk with the
Reapear or will it be with you?

The fog subsides in the glow of
The silver light. The repear appears
Giving me a final choice. To submit
To the call I've been fighting or to
Wonder this world as a lost soul
Begging for mercy.

Never alone again for I now walk
In the ranks of the repears. Still
When the fog rolls through and the
Midnight sun sets, beware of that
Distant call.

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