The canyon’s deep, bottom black, an abyss
Miles away, a great meadow, views of the mountains, flowers, sunshine bliss
And life is this
Walking, along the canyon, in the meadow or in the sage land in between
And it’s no one’s fault if they are staring down into the void or if their vision is filled with the meadow green
It is not ourselves or even circumstance, but the roll of dice by life that decides our scene
They who walk along the rim may turn, stand on the edge and gaze down with hope to end the pain
There are those who, no matter what they do, have no hope to escape the rain
And the meadow belongs to the sane
A single shove is all it would take for the trekkers along the hole
For those in the rain, life would have to propel them along a miserable walk with a high toll
People in the meadow would need one of the mountains to erupt with such force to destroy their world in its whole
Where anyone’s at doesn’t make them weak or strong
Hoping to end the misery, not being in pain, neither’s right or wrong
It’s all a matter of how life leads us along
Regardless of how big or small, there cannot be judgement over what it took for someone to be destroyed
Some strikes, no one can avoid
Everyone’s constantly pushed, some are just closer to the void