What's the point in all this doing,
when the world will just keep
*******
me into a downward spiral-
badly I want more.

What's the point in still believing,
when this life is so deceiving
me into a place I ventured
madly once before.

When you peered into my being,
when I felt delight in seeing
far beyond the nature of man
sadly, I abhor.

Yet the precious hand so gripping,
keeping me from slowly slipping.
When the light that shines from her eyes,
who could ask for more?