The Garden of Ambiguity

In my heart – a garden, where the lamb sleeps beside the tiger.
Where evil is but a shadow of good. Where the boundary is thin, like a spark.
What is sin, if love goes to its death for the sake of a goal?
What is evil, if good blooms in the heart of a killer?

Who shall name the “lesser evil,” if truth is covered in blood?
How to accept the law that a lie is the soul’s defense?
Morality is a knife in the hands that both saves and kills.
Truth is a bird in a cage, crying and singing.

Who is the judge, when the borders of good and evil are in the fog of the soul?
Only the heart that is silent knows the truth within the deception.
We are neither right nor guilty, only alive amidst the question:
Is there a paradise in the heart of one who has known their own suffering?

For both the lamb and the tiger – are embraced within us in quiet pain.
We are neither sinners nor saints – we are freedom in captivity.