Decisions, Decisions

You look right and look left,
You might lose sight of what is left,
You become the night that guides the theft,
You need the knight that reached the cleft.

Your disease spreads through your veins,
Those bees try to shackled you with chains,
You feel the breeze that stops you brains,
You freeze at ease to meet the gains and pains.

Your bones shake at the varieties that break societies,
You brake at the choices that are chosen by the voices,
You become the snake that slithers past the triggers,
You quake at the provisions of the decisions.

You glance at one result; 
You dance as they consult,
A trance that that is a cult,
A lance that pierces an insult.
You fear the other,
You clear the smother,
You gear to become rather…
You tear at the souther.