2 Tears that cry, poem

Contrasting sides

Which is more beautiful, more temperate
the dark or light side of the moon

is there more flavor, more depth
captured in the cold glimmer of death
like the shadow of a Grim Reaper
his scythe digging deeper and deeper
lost by a flicker of light
outside of our dimension of sight

or is it the light, the shimmer
everything revealed for its worth,
whether perverse or of splendor
withering in our eyes, wilting in the reflections
no mystery in the obsessions

like a lover with a heart
made of pages, of paper, of link, unable to hide
to secretly think
to divide between emotions within a blink

unable to lie, lay armor upon
the tears that cry, weight equaling a song
in this world of black and white

P.S. Hope you enjoy, I just wrote this- felt good to write something new for a change.