Flames of Fires Fade

Slowly Dying

Why is death something that's sure

The only thing that's truly constant in life

Why can't life be something real

Where happiness is sure to be guaranteed

Instead of struggling every day for a maybe

Maybe someday that will be my saving grace

To live this life full of what if's

And to treasure the uncertainties

But I haven't come far enough yet to say so

So much is given yet too much taken

And to never know whether it was even worth it

To touch something that is never there

And I don't know how much more I can take

Of living these years to only question

Question whether or not death is truly the end