He’s been called a genius,
He has been called the next,
Shakespeare, Mozart –
And in some ways he is
But he’s also the next,
Page, Spielberg –
And in ways he is

It’s night time again –
He stands by the window
Of his small apartment:
Just another city apartment…
He also stands in a clearing where –

Two roads diverged
No – more than two,
Millions, trillions even –
Countless roads diverged,
And he stands between them,
Let their edges touch his feet,
He is torn…
But he has to choose

Indecision and frustration,
Fester like germs inside of him,
Amidst their raging storm,
He let their edges touch his feet

He has to choose.