You wouldn't know it if it was
clinging as your skin

You keep it buried under piles
of situational sin

Your tongue clamps down
refusing to let the words come free

Your dubious looks somehow fits
that is all telling now to me

Listen to the words you let stumble
from the corners of your mouth

They codify your existence like the hot
dry winds coming from the south

You're afraid to give what little faith
you hide away in fears

Then you are caught looking back
on the mystery of the years

Life is not a game for the stubborn.
Sometimes the things we aspire for,
Are like a rose that is more thorns than petals,
And while we hold onto it, the pain settles,
Deeper and deeper.

Sometimes being stubborn is our own flaw,
Keeping us held high hopeful.

Life is a vine,
That scratches at you, the more you hold
Onto what you just can't have.

As one of my favourite anti-hero states

'You hit ’em and they get back up. I hit ’em and they stay down'...

And when life hits you beyond breaking,
You rise your head and see the beautiful things.
New view, new perspective and new things.