Internally torn by the severing shears of indecision I stand,
fearing that if I should take a step I will stumble.

I stand rigid to the point of immobility
as lubricious thoughts permeate my languid psyche

And so I stand ...
contemplating life,
it's strife,
it's plights ...
it's joy,
it's shame,
it's pride,
it's pain,
it's terror ...
it's benevolence,
it's meaning ...
it's consequence.

To choose or not to choose,
is that a question of genuine significance?
To live a life of indifference,
to slake carnal desire from the cup of indulgence.

Is this wrong or right?
Is this the elementary essence of life?

Perhaps the path of piety provides the answers
for this provincial pilgrim.
Living a life of don'ts and do's,
mindlessly following what's told to you as "true"

Could it be, that the spectrum of morality
is always this black and white?
Or is it possible     that it just might
much more complex then we'd like
to conceive,
much more complex then we'd like
to believe?

Could it be, that the spectrum of morality,
is in fact inhabited by infinite intensities
of gray?
Shades of gray that have no say.
Shades of gray that aren't labeled with the "right" way?

And so I still stand,
in an utter state of mental atrophy,
contemplating this didactic journey.

To stand still, is to make a choice ...
the wrong choice.

To step is the only solution.
Thus I must delve into the miry sea of morality,
in hopes to discover some clarity
amidst the crashing currents of confusion.

So step I shall
and stumble I may,
on a quest for self truth
in the morally gray.