Reaching for the flesh colored grains.
They litter the brink between safe haven and disaster.
Poison or an antidote.
Darkness or light.

It can all be yours for a trade...

On one side of the brink lies lives and leaves of lush,
decadent in every shade of green.
A painters palette crafted from the heavens,
the gift of nature and freedom in grasp.

It can all be yours for a trade...

And on the other side of the brink lies a sign;
“Pick your poison.”
Deep in the thought and out of mind,
subconscious battle for reassurance.
Good and bad.
Wrong and right.
The trade is made...
And suddenly you're on the brink of chaos.