An Imperfect World

In an imperfect world

Torn apart by two margins

Dotted lines of right and wrong

Who runs the show?

The tussle between right and wrong

The mind, the dumping ground

The mind, the tool of expression

The heart, the stable of thoughts

The calves of the lips, the instrument of thoughts

In an imperfect world

The middle ground is extinct

The soil, moist by thoughts

Of light and darkness

Of justice and injustice

Of strength and weakness

Of love and hatred

Of joy and sadness

Of peace and torment

Of faith and fear

In an imperfect world

Of trees and forest

Of which tree would you eat from?

Of what fruit are you?

Of what soil did you spring from?

Of what roots were you made

Of what fruit would you produce?

In an imperfect world

There are two sides to a coin

Two sides to a story

 Two sides to a theory

 Two sides to live

In an imperfect world

There are two realms of life

From which realm do you see?

From which realm would you speak?

From which realm do you live?

In this imperfect world

There are two lives to live

Life of a Hero

 Life of a villain

We are our own Heroes

 Our own villains

Our own angels

Our own demons

We are who we are

Who we want to be

In this imperfect world.