...it were not true...

Bite it, your tongue, let it not say what were not true
For I'd have no cause for it, what you said
I am not made of it, abhor it,
Especially for you
That is absolute
Greys are for those that cannot actualize the core of their existence
That is not me
I am a pattern vertical of either or of binary
Say that it may bore you sure
But where the light of stars were not more than a map for the ancients
As it may be a light of dreams for others
Can there not in me something ephemeral
A light to depend upon when you need it
For a star has no concerns of itself
As is me.