The Tale about the Road I took

At times all I want is, to walk barefoot and stare at the stars coming out one by one, as they shine at the advent of the twilight. But then there is an incessant fear lurking inside: did I tread onto the road not taken. Maybe, the journey has just begun and I may have become too objective in some aspects of my life. My ephemeral life that appears mammoth under the microscope of eternal time. It may also be my continuous confabulation for the destination or the sudden sense of mundaneness that has creep ed into my life. I hear no words in the songs that I listen to and come across no punctuation marks in the stories that I read. And then there are other times when I feel I have just walked on and never stopped by to look around me. Did I take the wrong arm at the fork of the road? Have I walked so far that I could not imagine turning back now? And do I hoist my own petard by retreating steps? I am not chickening out . The die is cast and I have decided to move on.

"Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same"

All I want is poetic justice to be meted out.