You do not want to go there.
Oh, the way is well-lit
And plainly marked
By polyglot signage that all can read
Even the illiterate.
No; there is no danger of
Getting lost along the way.
And, in fact,
From the first foot-setting
To the end of the path,
There may be many
Twists and turns
But there are no forks.
So when, at length, you notice
That the hooves or paws or talons
Are your own
It is too late.
And whatever your vehicle
Be it dust-and-rust-encrusted magic ring
Or sterile, subcutaneous mutagen
The route is express.
You will not change horses
(Though you may change into one)
In mid-stream.
Are you ready to forsake yourself?
To lose your hands
Lose your voice
Lose your skills and sentient mind
To lose, by inches or in one fell swoop,
All that makes you what you are
In suicide-plus-rebirth exchange?
Perhaps you do
Believe yourself prepared
For this, the ultimate in
Life-changing experiences.
Perhaps you are a fool.
No one is prepared
For this.
No, you do not want to go there.
But…
Some of you will.