The unknown void
This man understands what he wants and wants what he
understands
His hands, steady; His feet, firm; His mind, perplexed
beyond the dilemma
One eye infatuated with the poison
One eye aware of the illuminated gun
His hands fail to form the shape of how his heart has been
broken
Not equal mirroring pieces, but different shapes, volumes,
and parts
The void between the two choices is filled with his
dichotomized thoughts
He hopes to move past his fractured situation
That by sloughing off the old anatomy, he might graze
greener grass
So, with his feet planted in patience, he pauses
Acknowledges this spectrum of unknown animosity,
And to his lack of understanding he tells stories of what he
knows firmly
Stories of neither poison, nor bullets, but of a beautiful,
wait-worthwhile heart
That when joined with his, will shed vision to this unknown
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