Uncertainty
Uncertainty stands as all that is certain, A play performed in cruel jest. Characters wait behind a dingy curtain, Evoking discord in my chest. Subtle whispers betray the lights, Starting lies and endless nights. What of God’s Love? Is that so insecure too? Coming from above, Can it stand to be true? Blind faith makes all that has come to pass assured, Selling thought to ease the pain. Insecurities abound though I’m cured, Standing in the darkened rain. Passively awaiting my fate, Praying that it is not too late. What of Justice? Is that so insecure too? I must fight this, It cannot be untrue. Freedom comes on the edge of a deadly knife, Refusing the death of light. Struck either way, in this whirl-wind known as life, Trembling at the night. Facing unavoidable death, Uncertain, I still surrender breath. What of a Hope? Is that so insecure too? A sharp slick slope, Will I ever be new? What comes at the end of the line? That is what will come to define. The visions of the end of st