What is the Point of living?
If only to sit in darkened rooms.
A water fall making a path down an undeserving host's pretty cheeks.
Silence, the echoes of shadows as the world doesn't care.
Not one bit, what is the point?
If only to face the world swimming, failing, drowning.
Wanting to share the sorrows of you heart, but knowing you've failed.
You're not strong.
You're not flying.
You're falling, In the deep void of despair and disaster, Of endless pain and suffering.
Knowing it's the end.
An early trip to the grave is all you've ever accomplished.
If only you saw the tear stained faces of the people who cared.
As the funeral starts and ends.
As the days roll on, As the rain falls, and the Darkness continues.
Another life cut short.
Yet, why live at all?
Were we not all just all born to die?
