Unsure

Unsure. By Bluewind

In vast vagueness, figures move.
Dans l’heure entre chien et loup.
Are you a friend, or are you a foe?
Are you a saint, or a wretched soul?

Shadow lengthens, figures approaches.
‘Tis the hour beings confuse (d)
At split images, he really wonders:
Do we all have the two sides of us?

Cease to tell, since ‘tis hard to tell
“Who is a good guy?” who can tell?
Good and bad exist equally well.
Dans l’heure entre chien et loup.