Crossroads

Four paths merge on one road,
The darkest the most protective
The lightest the most reckless,
The primal moving with fluid grace,
The protector wary of the paths ahead,
At the crossroads we meet,
in between the primal need to move,
to fly with those with angel wings,
to look into the eyes of the daemon,
and see the void of never ending life,
At the crossroads we meet,
To watch the protector watching,
his words and his swords ready to cut,
to see family home again,
to watch them safe in their beds
never to know the dangers in the night,
At the crossroads we meet,
noisy crows sent as harbingers,
The sky crimson with color,
these birds destroying rosebush after rosebush,
their cries echoes of fallen shadows,
that shift across the earth,
freezing all that they touch,
At the crossroads we meet,
The primal and the protective,
The dark and the light,
Marked by one another,
Into the eyes of the abyss we walk,
heads high as we step into the void,
Our journey one small road after another,
Until we part ways,
Never to say goodbye,
Always till we meet again.