Amidst a sea of clear intent,

A being lists astray,

For many visions linger there

Each with a different way.

A soul of writhing colors,

And a heart of twining chords

Coexisting peacefully,

And hardly crossing swords.

A hope to maintain balance,

And a wish to keep it all;

A neverending conflict

That will never cause a fall.

But in the end a dreaded choice

Will surely come about

That seems to bluntly undermine

The chance of soothing doubt.

What part of all the being said

Would be the victor here?

For now a stalemate stands in place,

Retaining hope and cheer.