Running conflict

Here we go again. The conflict that arises every now and then is, you guessed it, back. What is my conflict? I'll never tell. Not unless you ask real nice. And even then I'll hesitate.

Fork in the Road

I walk a road that has high walls of fickle roses.
A path that widens only to thin up ahead.
Never consistent,
With smooth slabs one time
And rocky trails the next.
Every now and then a golden path will lead away
To join with another road.
There I see no high walls,
No threatening thorns.
Like lying on a lush moor in midsummer with a lover
It is easy and filled with green grasses.
It is calm and bathed with sun.
Every now and then I'll wrestle with myself
If I should take the path.
But the road I walk is needy.
And the road I walk is strong.
Or is it just my weakness that keeps me in these walls?
I trudge along
A long road winding.
I sing to lessen reality
As I know this road is wrong.

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What I want is something new that's something old that's something gold that needs renewed.

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I'm suffering for this lack of sleep, but insomnia won't go away. Penance, perhaps? But, what did I do wrong again? I predict that it is for something I will do rather than what I have done. My own conscience attacking me to get it over with and do the deed already. But it's hard. I had it, you know. It was done. But second chances don't seem to have a limit. I just keep giving them. After cheating, slander, blame, hate, arguing, drunken lies, cheating, silence, I just keep giving them. My acts of forgiveness have over shadowed the need for fair justice. And it is I who suffers. But I do not kill this beast because I will feel bad and empathetic in it's suffering. In my domestication I have become soft...