Often, I ponder the consequences of life.
The illustrations we paint,
Choosing to splatter yet another color across the canvas.
Often, I watch as color turns dark.
Ceasing to exist, the suns light dipping under the horizon.
And here we are, in our truest nature, staring into the shadows.
As a man stares within his own soul.
What purpose can we serve when our lives our haunted by wrong and right.
How can we, navigate the lightless landscape, when all can be shattered by one action.
The weight not mattering, the intention disregarded.
For any and all actions pose the chance of error,
of tumultuous failure.
This world we inhabit, and the society we love so dearly,
so fragile.
Often, I ponder the reason of those around me.
of the weight they throw with their actions, and how assuredly
they hold themselves.
Often, I wait to see them tumble, never again to fully make it off the ground.