If

There are no right and wrong choices

There are only choices

And after them, it is the same

What would have been

- because it is not...

There is only life, looking forward

?and when it does not exist?

The right and wrong?

Only choices,

So, spread your wings and fly

If not tonight - then the next one 

?and in the morning, the journey is done

You smile a mysterious smile

- So do I, the same smile,

Euryale

I rise up and stretch me

Open my not seeing eyes

Folding my wings

Tidy, between my shoulders

I let the dust fall down

And I go up on my normal place

On roof of Notre Dam

- Third one from left-

To remember the days

The time before Pallas Athene

When my wings were still white

And my light hair waved in the wind

Like a ripen field

Just before harvest

"The Road Not Taken"

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;



Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,



And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.



I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost