Going down in spades

Which way should I head? A boy will ask himself as all boys at one time do. Toward the harsh and beautiful sun, the trail is fraught with ache and exhaltation. Toward the cool call of the treeline; the shade invites, promising a lull of easy dissapointment and remarkable inability. It seems that this choice, so simplistic in it's view is not taken lightly, by but a select few. As he nears the wood's edge, he feels his shoulders lighten from all burden, however displaced is the weight upon his heart. As the youth is gripped, by the lullabye forsaken by resillience, he hears the faint calls of heartache and glory. Toward the damp and dark those cries become much softer still, till only gray and dull surrounds. The realization of complacency! The Youth feverishly retreats from the place where neither ebb nor flow exist. And strikes his path, onward, outward, and inward, toward the turbulent beauty that is manhood.