its always either all or nothing.
its always either drowning beneath the waves.
or dying from the thirst.  
I live in a black and white world.
I don't know what grey is.
I never did.

the title looked nice,
you opened the book,
and begun a new life,
you found a new home,
where you meet some new friends,
you kept on reading hoping it would never end,
you danced through the pages,
and sang out the words,
you felt all their joy,
and all their pain and hurt.

the pages cut your fingers,
and the words cut your heart,
like the author had a knife,
and was tearing your soul apart,
you laughed with the characters,
and with them you cried,
you fell in love with them too,
but with them you died
and as the book came to an end,
your broken heart couldn't heal,
you finally realised that,
its.
not.
real.

''go on '' I whisper,
as I open my hands towards unforgiving the sky,
you are free now.
a single **** gracefully leaves my hands,
soaring smoothly into the open air,
my last **** has gone.
I have none left to give.

One died to protect his pride,
One died of a human core,
One died for his loyal side,
One died in the hands of war,
One died to repent for his crime,
One died as a servant of peace,
One died far beyond his time,
But for all of them death was a release.

I do not pay attention to the world ending around me,
the world has ended for me many times.
And begun again in the morning.