I'm wandering the streets all alone, Thoughts racing through my mind I come across a crossroad, Wondering which path would lead to my demise. One is full of life and has multiple footprints, While the other is dread with no signs of life. "Which one to take", I say Stuck in the dilemma of chary and delight. With a sigh, I take a step forward, Leaving the chary life behind, I step in the dread delight, Excited to find out all the surprises that lie. The silence of the breeze, The crunching of the leaves. It's just me with my thoughts, Wandering this untrodden street. But as I continue walking, I look back to see the starting. And no matter how much I walk ahead, The start doesn't seems to fade away. So then I start to wonder, Are my efforts even been acknowledged? Or it this path in a slumber, Not even knowing it's being treaded. Then I hear a whisper, soft and quiet, A voice that seems to come from behind. I pause and look at the path beyond, Where my feet have trod, and my heart has cried. "You seem to be lost in your own choice", He said, a hazy figure with no face. "The start will never fade oh child, Unless you stop looking behind". "You chose the path of surprise, Yet you falter with every choice." He raises his hand and points to the start, "Let go of it and embrace your path". "The start you cling to, is the end of another, A cycle of paths, one after the other. Each step you take is a thread in the weave, A story of choices you must believe." "But who are you?" I finally speak, "In my choice you believe, Who are you to look for me? When I'm lost in this spree". "Perhaps, you need to find that out yourself", He said, pointing towards the end. The end which wasn't visible until now, It was before me, as clear as morning dew. And so I start walking again, This time, without looking back. I walk and walk, until I reach the end, Only to stand before another choice of fate. Another crossroad, another divide, Another moment to choose, another stride. But this time, I see a figure ahead, A wanderer, lost, with thoughts in their head. I see him walking but it's been futile, And as he walks, he keeps looking behind. In an attempt to find the meaning of life, He keeps on moving and keeps on trying. I watch him closely, and it dawns on me, The hazy figure, the voice, the plea. It was never a stranger who guided my way, But a version of myself from a future day. Now I stand at the crossroad once more, Two paths before me, as there were before. One glows with light, a life of my own, A path of joy where my dreams are sown. The other is dim, but familiar in tone, A path of guidance, where I'm not alone. For there he stands, the wanderer lost, Still looking back, still counting the cost. I pause and ponder, my heart in my hands, A choice before me, a shift in the sands. Do I take the path that offers me bliss, Or do I help the one who still wanders in this? The answer comes softly, a whisper within, A truth that's been waiting beneath my skin. For how can I find my own happiness true, If I leave a part of myself lost and blue? So this time I make my choice, Without hesitation, I enter the path of demise. Just so I can watch over his life, And his choices, over truths and lies. And so I walk, no longer alone, A guide to the self I've always known. For in this journey, I've come to see, The stranger was always a part of me.