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As long as there is black and white, how could there not be gray?
If you don't know another's plight, how could you then berate?
Intention is the heart's true theme, perceived upon extent.
Perception is a selfish thing, neglectful of intent.
The beauty of a flower, in a weed can still exist.
As knowledge is to power, so is ignorance to bliss.
An open heart is beautiful, but hazardous as well.
An open mind is dutiful, but also tends to dwell.
Everything's subjective, there's no right or wrong to blame.
To one what is respected, to the next could be a shame.
The mystery of life is not a force which we command.
As hard as we may try, we're not supposed to understand.
If you don't know another's plight, how could you then berate?
Intention is the heart's true theme, perceived upon extent.
Perception is a selfish thing, neglectful of intent.
The beauty of a flower, in a weed can still exist.
As knowledge is to power, so is ignorance to bliss.
An open heart is beautiful, but hazardous as well.
An open mind is dutiful, but also tends to dwell.
Everything's subjective, there's no right or wrong to blame.
To one what is respected, to the next could be a shame.
The mystery of life is not a force which we command.
As hard as we may try, we're not supposed to understand.