What is it to live?
Have our pasts become our eclipse?
The present blackened out,
Enslaved to a memory,
When will the clouds break free from the rain ?
Are we a pendulum of emotion, drunk on a tonic of pain?

What is it to live?
Is it to love?
To Finally Catch the falling blossom of spring, as you so aimlessly wandered,
Through your garden of unsayable things.
Did it slip through your fingers ?
Did you see yourself fall?
We were meant to be wild,
Tho Tormented by existence,
This beast once was a child.

What is it to live?  
Are you burdened by figments of truth?
Does your reflection only exist to disdain you?
To be taken only once by the grasp of another’s bleeding heart,
To truly taste the bitter sweetness of love,
This could be the only moment you ever have to breathe your most effortless breaths.
I hope you’ll know when its kiss feels safe enough to ask for one more!
Because If love is your captor,
your prison,
Then to die on this lonesome hill,
is the only way to survive x