I'm struggling with my identity,
I seem to have no memories.
What the hell is fate and destiny,
is it what's written for us,
why can we not narrate our legacies?
I know not what's meant for me,
destiny claims that it's not meant to be.
Release me from this bondage,
Just set me free and let me be.
I'm tired of acting like I pretend to see,
the truth of life, to confuse us endlessly.
Death is another mystery,
what is it's history?
All we know is that it is certain,
the only guarantee in life
and it causes but misery,
instant with or without injury
oblivious to what's wrong or right.
It takes any soul as it pleases,
extracting them is very easy.
It will simply touch as he see's it,
freezing over the remains
as he passes and leaves it.
Why are we cursed with emotion,
sorrow as deep as the ocean.
We find our hearts are always open,
impossible to shut it's door,
as pain passes through in a motion.
Morning light or the night's darkness,
those of heart or those who are heartless.
If our souls are connected and joined,
there would be none who could part us.
An astrological love like the stars kissed,
or the very devil's whispers with dark gifts.
Fixed or broken, weak or strong,
word or rhyme, or lyrics to a song,
at least we still know where our heart is.
Upon discovery it seems life itself is a test,
it started from the first day, first breath.
And each day lived is our written answers,
with hope resulting pass and find an end,
to create abodes that we find after death.
Will we reach the very stairs of heaven
or are we fated for the depths of hell?