They were not always this obvious, the consequences.

I could not see them clearly, this vividly, My son.

the fog blurred my vision, the mantle way too tempting. ( Stoic)

Eager to be called, and recognized, as THE MAN.

A price I had to pay?

Life. ( regretful )

so look, this is THE MAN I became, the person of my youth:

I had to find a way of governing over my peers, My son.

I had to rule over them.

And if I were to do that I had to be everything they held in high esteem.

I had to be the one that got all the prettiest Girls. ( A sad chuckle)

I had to sleep with quite a number of these pretties.

I had to.

At double crossing, I had to have the mastery, the expertise.

I had to saturate my body with all kinds of alcohol, and still stand tall. ( Moans)

I had to put smoke into my chest, in all kinds of ways.

ways my compatriots revered.

Ten years later, and what I became? ( Tearing up )

let me tell you what I became, My son:

I was paralyzed, left for dead, a living corpse.

Lawsuits after lawsuits of failed child support from those pretties I had cornered.

STDs and STIs are the definitions of my man. ( weeping )

I do not have a home nor do I have a life.

I am crippled, My son, far gone.

Oh! I am now terminal ( Snuffles ) from the cancer I got from all the smoke intake.

all futile, so fickle ( Laments with regret).

And My friends you might ask, right? ( sighs with a laugh)

well, they are happy.

I was the man in their youth, they learnt off from me.

their example of what not to be. ( Chokes )

they drink and dine with their families, happily.

they have wives, a home and warmth.

they have everything I cannot have.

A safe place, My son.

As I stood there, tears rolling down my eyes onto my cheeks and down, they rolled in pain and regret. ( weeps )

The pain of my youth, the thorn of my flesh ( regretful)

But redemption! I cry, I shout! ( Wipes his tears )

came at my door.

let me tell you ( Smiles ).

Can an abandoned stream rejuvenate?

Can stray waters find their way back home?

Would a once infertile land reclaim its fertility?

Is it possible to rekindle a lost flame?

A breeze of fresh air, is it enough?

A breath of condensed air, can it warm the cold parts inside?

Is it possible, to breathe again, as good as yesterday, Is it?

A roaring rage, can a free failing roar of a shout free it?

Would it soothe this wound inside?

Would that suffice?

Is it possible to be set free, free again, is it?

I would wonder.

Would I find my way back to you again?

Would we be happy?

Would I make up for all my shortcomings?

It is possible that we might have a second chance?

My heart yearns to have it back.

To have you again, to make it work.

Would that be possible, would it be possible?

Is it possible to go into the unknown again, with you, is it?

But O, my mind.

It tells me we are better off where we left off.

Could it be true?

Is not it possible to come back home and make a happy home again?

Is it not?

My mind says, you just miss the mere thought of it.

Do you not mean it?

Would it be just mere words for you?

Do you just miss having the ball in your backyard?

Do you really need it?

Is it possible you just want it for the show of it?

that terrifies me to my core.

I tremble, darling.

O, for me, it is deep.

I feel this river could flow again.

I feel it could rejuvenate again.

I do believe, a free roar, at a random yard could free the pain.

And yet again , and again, I find myself wondering;

Is it possible you feel the same?

are you really here, or do I just want you here?

But there is another.

So gentle, so patient.

A young flowing river.

A young roar of a lions cub.

A lifeline.

And when it was all but dry, and so fierce inside me.

It flew right in, unafraid.

It rejuvenated my dried up river,

A young roar, like a spark,

It taught me to roar again,

To live again.

Is it possible that there was such a one for you too, Darling?

Is it possible that rejuvenating our dried-up flow stream could hinder a much greater one for you, is it?

Could you possibly also need such a one?

It scares me.

And yet, I wonder.

Sometimes, other times, most times,

I ask myself questions.

Would it be wise to leave such a one in favor of your own?

Would not I suck it out of the its turbulence?

Would not I leave this young cub to its own grave, in chase of your roar?

Is it possible it could live?

Is it possible it could survive?

Is such a risk even worth it?

Is it?

And as much as I loved you,

As much as I wish nothing but the best for you,

As much as I would welcome you right back into these arms of mine,

would I risk this young river to run out of its turbulence,

would I let this young curb to fend on its own, would I, and would you?

But Is it possible to keep both?

Can I look after them both?

I am torn.

My heart, and my mind.

A dilemma, a turmoil.

Of love, of allegiance, of commitment.

Save me O God.