Being Human seems easy enough.
You live and you die; and the middle?

Unknown.

Life is the struggle of filling that gap.
A struggle that all of us go through alone.

Sure, we experience life in many different ways.
Through many different perspectives,
But we never count the days.
Time is the enemy of all of mankind.
Time is something that we scramble to find.

We like to love, but we love to hate.
Conflict is as human as the thirst to become great.
People would rather argue than hug.
Hate is the reason that love tends to fail.
But we all believe that love will prevail.

Fear is our boundary; It is our line.
The line in the sand between them and what's "mine".
It can leave you in the dark, or bring you to the light.
Fear is what separates the good from the great.
It keeps us humble for what we cannot dictate.


Just because you're breathing,
Does not mean that you're alive.
Living is not an action.
But the struggle to find how you die.

We don't choose to live.
We don't want to die.

But if you seek the truth, than it, you shall find.
The truth is what we strive for.
It's what makes life great.
Truth gives us power to destroy or create.

The truth is our answer.

Life is our question.

I started at the edge of my seat.
Subconsciously found my way to my feet.
I look at the mound, and then at the plate.
This is our chance.
Our one last hope.

He steps in the box with a glare at the mound.
First with the right,
And then with the left.
Bottom of the 9th with two men out.
Come on, batter, just relax.

Down by one with a man on first.
A tingle runs up and down my spine.
There goes a strike.
Now there's two.
Down to our last...

Then a ball comes through.
The count one and two.
Here comes another.
Now two and two.

A strike or a ball?
Only the pitcher knows for sure.
He winds his body up
And then follows through.

THWACK

This one's headed for the wall.
The crowd stares in awe as we look at the ball.
The fielder runs back, but stops at the track.
Before I knew it, he was touching em' all!

A fist in the air as he rounds first base.
He claps his hands as he rounds second.
When he reaches third he shakes someone's hand.
He touches home plate and I take off my hat.

**And that's how we won with one swing of the bat.

I pinch my brow, and rub my eyes.
I procure a heavy sigh.
I feel regret, a dear old friend,
As I look up at the sky.

I retreat to my mind, I shut my eyes.
I think of what to say.
Hate comes along, whistling his song,
"How would you rather feel today?"

I searched for love, I found someone.
I thought she was a dream.
Instead I found myself in hell.
People aren't always what they seem.

I was blinded by "love", I am in love.
I love her and she loves me.
But so many questions come to my mind.
"Are we truly meant to be?"

I don't know, I don't know, I really don't know...
There's so much pain in my heart.
The things that we do and the things that we say,
Are tearing us apart.

I unclench my fists, I open my eyes.
I let out a heavier sigh.
Rubbing my eyes, I wipe these tears
As I look up at the sky.

"No, not again..." I cried to myself,
As I buried my face in the palms of my hands.
As I clenched onto a lock of my hair in each fist,
And slowly but surely loosened my grip.

So many nights in this dark room of mine,
Repeating this ritual from one night to the next.
Sometimes I pace, sometimes I drink,
But most of the time I just sit down and think.

I think to myself...
What is this, a curse?
My punishment for all my sins and misdeeds?
My refusal to believe in a man called, "God"?
For biting the hand from which I did feed?

No.
"It can't be..." I whisper in fear.
"If God does exist, he wouldn't do this to me."
"I wouldn't be cursed with such a terrible plague."

Then the demons awaken.
Just like every other night.
Forcing their way into my room every night.
Forcing their way into my head every night.
Haunting me until the sun shines on my window.

They hold my eyes open.
But I force them shut.
They whisper my thoughts,
And their voices keep me up.
Silent and still like a dark shallow pond,
But sleep refuses to rescue me.

And when that sun shines,
It's a sight I do dread.
A sight that reminds me of these mornings in bed,
When the battle is over and the demons retreat,
Into my head as I lay in defeat.

Now that it's over, I continue my day.
Keeping my curse and my demons at bay.
But even then, I dread every night,
When my demons return with a vengeance to fight.