Simplicity.

Isn't it strange?

There seems to be another in each,

Gasping, fighting, weeping,

Trying to come to the light,

Yet always out of reach.

Revealed to friend, or foe,

Blurred. Immitating. Uncertainty.

The shroud, inticing it may be,

Though there is something else.

An idea.

Passion for one, disgust for another.

Lust, to hate.

Enlightened, shielded.

Accepting, relentless.

Twisted.

Alone, and surrounded all at once.

Difficult to think...yes.

Hard to breath...yes.

Confused....yes.

Waiting?

Not a chance.