The Meandering Path

The meandering path leads to something
I'm not quite sure where it leads
Sometimes it takes me up to the beautiful trees
Other times, I'm thrust into the puking smoke of Listerine.

Yet...

I see more and more, the two sides of this world.

Nay...

Three sides
Like a triangle

Each side struggling against the other
Pushing...
Forming angles
Sharp corners that pierce the very existence of who we are.

One side,
Long and wiry and...
Black
Black as the lightless cave of our souls

Another side,
Constantly shifting colors
Trying to contrast against the black
Pushing against what it stands for

Yet...

Not quite sure how

And...

Missing the black that sneaks into the colors

The final side...

Invisible but present
Providing a balance
Against the mindless contrast
And the grindless self-pompous.

Balance...

None would exist without all three.

Then one day..

I saw the circle...