FEAR IN THE DARK

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I see my destination; it's beautiful. 
I clearly see my vision; it's incredible.
But which staircase should I take to get there?
Two straircases; I guess I just have to dare.
At a time, you can only take one staircase...
Then that's it for the rest of the phase.
One is right, one is wrong, but which is which?
And after taking one, you cannot switch.
To switch is to quit before learning the truth.
To switch is to kill time, to stop too soon.

I see the top, the dazzling top.
I run up these stairs; I will never stop.
But I don't want to be wrong, or I'll flop.
If the staircase ends halfway and I fall off,
It'll break me—the landing won't be soft.

Lately, my confidence has been stumbling. 
For quite a while now, I have been running.
I wonder if this staircase is just a cul-de-sac.
I wonder if I'm wasting life with the wrong track.
The god in my mind speaks to me often.
He makes sure I believe in my only vision.
But I want him to tell me if I'm going right.
Why don't he just sprinkle a little more light?
Going really hard for very long...
Just to discover that you were terribly wrong...
Though, will that be as painful as I think?
Probably yes, I'd shatter on some hard brick.
If I die then, I'd be remembered for trying.
If I don't die, I'd be a bird with broken wings.
I'd be forced to use my legs, the lower limbs.

Falling off has its ironic charms.
Falling off means I now know what harms.
Afterward, only the right staircase remains.
Will the fall consume me or will I step on the staircase?
Fear of falling off has never consumed me,
But fear of staying fallen is ruining me.

If any of the fears win, I become mediocre.
A normal life is too somber for me, too sober.
Well, I have a really good news to this fever.
My deepest and strongest fear is dying mediocre.
I'm not normal. I'm the devil with manners:
I lust with passion, I deceive hours.
I flame in growth, my dreams are fire.
Heart of a person, soul of a monster:
I crunch the minutes, though humble as I tire.
My sins are growing deeper and faster. 
I'm too hectic for heaven anyway.
If a dead end is the truth of this staircase, 
I'll fall off with a huge smile on my face.
Truly live, or die trying—no other way.

If how great I live doesn't matter,
How long I live doesn't matter.
Breathing is not living, I say. 
Bite my teeth and run down the stairway.
All the way through.
All the way through.

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