And so he left the woods where everyone was fast asleep,
And took a walk among broken trees,
Came to a path off to sea,
But realized that mountains blocked his view,
And there were two paths before him,
He did not know where they went,
They both seemed equally dangerous,
And equally exciting,
He blinked,
And a man stood before him,
Each foot on each road,
He called himself Janus,
And offered the roads,
He did not say where they went,
Though he knew, he did,
So he looked to the left, and looked to the right,
But there was no ahead,
And the behind seemed to have disappeared all together,
He sat on the fork,
For time seemed to have left as well,
And Janus smiled but did not say anything,
But the longer he sat,
The bigger his sinister smile grew,
Until the sitter got up,
Because he realized,
That not moving was moving,
Just moving still,
And not choosing was choosing,
Just choosing still,
So he chose a road,
And I do not know which one he chose,
But I think that it is enough,
That he did.