Right or Wrong

In a cabin perched where thoughts run deep, 

Where the secrets of the soul into twilight seep, 

Outside, the world is waking slow, but within, a storm does rage, 

A choice awaits on horizon's break that will the course of life engage. 

The trees, they rustle secrets old as the stone, 

Their leaves like whispers into the unknown. 

In my hand, a letter, the ink barely dry, 

A choice that beckons with a consequential sigh. 

And now I sit and ponder, 

Upon this quiet wonder: 

Is good merely the absence of bad? 

Or a stalwart force, gallant and glad? 

And evil, does it breathe and live, 

Or is it just what we give? 

For in every act of kindness, a shadow is cast, 

And each malevolence has its virtuous contrast. 

What is one without the presence of the other? 

But a silence unbroken, a void to uncover. 

The wind grows colder, the decision nears, 

For each man’s heart, a battlefield. 

The path I choose will mark the earth, 

Devils haggle at the angels worth. 

And as I sit and ponder, 

I pen my answer, in tandem wonder. 

For in the battle between the dark and the light, 

I choose the course I believe is right. 

Thus, in the cabin perched where thoughts run deep, 

Where the secrets of the soul into twilight seep, 

A choice that beckons with a weary sigh, 

In my hand, a letter, as the end draws nigh.