The moon looks the same everywhere that I go... forever lovely and whiter than snow.

I stare in the sky and ask my questions
with a slightly
humble
voice,
but all that goes throughout my mind
is snatched up
by a different
choice.

The west of me wants only to see
the world in raging fearful fire.
While the east of me,
which craves the free,
wants only to calm the hostile desire.

With hope they'll break the selfish hand and work towards more than something grand...