Red or blue pill?

The road to hell is said to be paved
With good intentions. Others believe

It’s a gateway to a paradise. Yet this pair of eyes
Has peeped some fly, like moths to a beam,
too close to the glare of the sun, and plummet
Into the sea.

Some from distant lands made promises, and seized
The red flower from god’s realm. Their livers remain forever
on the end of a sharp splinter.

On the corner, at night, under a lamp post, we play
Snakes and Ladders. We have formed our own cult.
We roll the dice to make our next move, thinking of all
the sacrifices, ceremonies, severed ties and sleepless nights.

Where will it fall?

I fall to my knees.
I raise my palms
to the sky, in submission. No miracle
comes easy.

Even an antidote is poison
taken in small doses

It seems this is the line
I must cross
Before I die.