Gray security encircles
No black and white
Right and wrong
Are not defined
Hues and tones
Make up the world
Nothing set in stone
As the rotation continues
Flying bullet
Isn’t evil nor good
Could save or kill
Depends on the shooter
Life isn’t fair
It’s coldly bitter
Nothing but a sea of graves
Waves take us under
-Kel Dayheart
Fragment of a Figment 
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