There are people who are for no one,
For whom there is no one.
They are two sides of a circle.
The first is clad in shadow-black,
Who sails down a river of blood,
Deeper still, never glancing back.
The second, alabaster white,
Who watches over life and love,
A justice bitter as winter's bite.
Why are they not "for" one another?
Although both share a love for something greater than themselves, each stands in the way of the other's dream.
