Standing on a broken mountain, I gazed into my soul.
I saw who I was, and what I had left behind.
I noted the good I had done, as well as the bad,
While roaming the breadth and depth of my mind.
Looking up, I saw the cool climbs of Heaven,
Glancing down, I glimped the brimstone of Hell.
Before me, leading off, were two paths.
One seemingly upward, the other hard to tell.
I heard and felt the music of the wind,
And saw the bleak landscape of broken sod.
Knowing salvation or damnation was my choice I paused,
Looking for a clue, on which path my feet should trod.
I had danced to the devil’s tune, in times past,
And spoke to angels when my life was low.
I considered my life, all this and more,
And through my hair, felt the wind blow.
Remembered from experience what to do,
I set my feet on the narrow ledge.
For as with life, the path to redemption,
Is like walking a razor’s edge.
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