What is love?
Can we gripe the definition of love in our hands, and truly understand all we possess?
To me, it feels like love is this world's one and only gift, that without it life is pointless.
will I hold love for someone, and if and when I do, will I be able to hold on?
Or maybe this is God's way of punishing us, to give a hope that is too heavy to hold on to.
So that if we might grasp it, we will either let go or get hurt in the process.
I carry no burden, but only the reminder that my hands are empty.

Will you forget me when I leave?
When my heart stops and the blood stills and my body is nothing but an eternal winter, Will you remember my life, or will I only leave behind a gap to be filled?
I feel as though I'm no longer scared of dying, but rather being forgotten.
One day my name will no longer roll of people's tongues, and my grave will be barren.
Will the only thing left of me be a stone, will I be nothing?
Just like the others before me, whose names I will never know.

And who are we to judge the broken?
When we ourselves are twisted, is anyone truly honest?
Lies hold together our facade, like a spider web, we are helpless flies.
Who will go next, prey sitting patiently waiting to be devoured?
I find some can't bear the weight, the thought that any moment the next one could be them, kills them.
Will you wait for me? its best not to struggle, you will only get yourself more stuck.

This world's game is hard to play, the rules are biased and unfair.
The dealer is relentless, and right as you think you are winning, you start to lose again.
This world is one ****** casino, with a big unknown prize at the end.
Is the promise of that prize worth gambling are lives away? I wish I had the answer, but then again it would probably ruin the game.