Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2019
I make no more assertions the world,
as a whole, will ever adequately define its morality.
People fluctuate in their ideal
too much.
We often try to make them concrete
from a spectrum of principles.
We may even reach an agreement;
a certain stalemate to an issue.
Though I know there will always be
opposition, it is an unavoidable constant.
And so, in the end, every debate is
nothing more than a lasso to a cyclone.
Written by
Undead Nomad  31/M
(31/M)   
244
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems