Uncertianty

You are the hope I have in the hopeless.
You are the doubts I have in my faith.
Chance is a blind man with no cane.
Risk is a mysterious seductress.
You are the bastard child of the two.
A canopy of confusion, a smog of deception.
Let a man’s yes be yes, let his no be no, but you are the source of his maybe’s and probably's.
You are the tennis match of my mind,
Going back and forth with ideas without conclusion, solution, or resolution.
You are the wrecking ball of confidence, the driving force of insanity.
You are a seed of of low-self-esteem.
When ripe you become the fruit of indecisiveness.
I wish I could get rid of you, but I’m afraid if I do,
The choice chosen or truth’s revelation will be the opposite of my own desire.
So for now I continue to wrestle with my own uncertainty.