skin and bones meet sticks and stones
make your mark in hearts and homes
reasons to live aren't fragile at all
pulling against with a reason to fall
toppled by greed and a hate that consumes
fall to the floor as her shape it assumes
reasons to fall aren't so common or fleeting
hand in my chest to keep my heartbeat still beating
passive, the fight never takes all my strength
reaching for truth now without any length
fire to brimstone and death to my door
take me apart, show me what to live for.
What happens when my reason to live decides life isn't worth living?