Should I for the sake of the eye,
don their triviality or, alone, sigh?
Chattel or prey or degree chosen;
the shores hostile, the river frozen.
I may glide afore my stage doth crack:
choose now or perish, I cannot turn back.
The banks bleak, both of great hindrance,
my deliberation finite, with no rescindence.
Finally I decide the persecutory side:
to retain independence, I sacrifice pride.
In hovel I sit, yet safe in impenetrable bastion,
myself I safest keep, in friendless contemplation.
So, stranger, friend, even, maybe too:
I have a meal to be slow-chewed by you.
If thou hast not yet flung thyself upon a shore,
choose the best for yourself alone, I implore.
Heed my words, follow them not:
decide alone what should be sought.
For betwixt hermetic mind and mindless captivity,
you will suffer your shore with either proclivity.
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