The Politics of Balance
So many contorted faces, fists raised defiantly in the air as snarling lips spit venomous screams of outrage.
1, 100, 1000, their numbers grow to a side as each side grows within itself, until those of wicked nature decide to change the page,
Voices carry a razors edge as faces darken and the timid fools are pushed aside by the predators wielding wood, steel and flame.
Banners of ideological mantras litter the sky proclaiming their collective indignation to be the more righteous of claims.
The balance breaks, buildings burn while the dregs of society pick them clean. not a care for the ruin others will endure.
The fires consume while primal hatred rages through the night until enough walk away or fall that the balance may return.
A line can not be drawn, sides not chosen unless conflict already exists, leading more and more fools into the collective nest.
Extremism creates nothing but an equal and opposite extremism, inevitably you create the very thing you so hatefully protest.