What is this horrific place,
We’re killing our only home,
We were gifted a rock sitting in space,
I know I will raise my children,
Under a calm and homely rafter,
But I fear for their children,
My children’s children,
And if any even come thereafter.

What is life. Life is just the cycling of death. We look up to death. We look forward to death.
What is death without life. You have no death without giving yourself life. To die you need to first have a life. Contrary to belief you aren't born with life. You make life or you disappear one day. Without life that grave is just a name. Choosing to settle for less in life is choosing to rob your life. Choosing to stop it from ever being. Choose life. Make yourself something.

If love is perfect,
Then why can't I cry,
Why can my mind not confect thoughts,
Love is not perfect,
It takes 2 unlikely subjects,
Somehow they connect,
They create something more than love,
It is truly pluperfect.