Wolves At The Door

There comes a time when you have to
face the wolves at the door
You can hear their hungry, rotten breath
panting just outside, ready to pounce
The moment your resolve to
stand your ground weakens

Sooner or later
It's either
  

Eat or be eaten

There comes a time when you have to
read the writing on the wall
Those inked words, not red, but
threateningly bloody, have been
appearing slowly, spelling doom
You can only pretend to ignore it

For so long
It's either

Choose or be chosen

There comes a time when you are
between the devil and the deep blue sea
the lesser of two evils, is not always
prominent by the shape of the eye;
watching you from amidst the flames
or else, from the deep, dark depths

When you fall
It's either

Sink or swim