When does wrong become right?
When does hate become love?
At this moment does our personal fate swirl in torment,
slurring everything beyond recognition,
beyond reconcilability?
And why isn’t this moment imprinted on our minds for all time,
instead of blurred from any number of days?

Perhaps there was never truly black and white,
but many shades of gray.
And thusly there was never wrong, never hate,
only dim shadows of unsettling.