A Beautiful lie
To die is to give up,
to loss all hope,
and have no shame.
To regreat the life you have,
is mearly a sin in the making.
But to live is to merely fear,
to live is to take a chanve,
to struggle and to cry,
to feel pain and love.
But when those feelings,
make you wish your life away.
What do you do?
You can go on,
with a fake smile gracing your lips,
or you can yell our in all of your paing and agony.
If to live,
means you will soon die,
then isn't life just death in the making?
Why is it that we are granted the ability to breath?
Is it just to make us suffer?
Are we all truely puppets tied to the strings of fate?
We are.
We are.
We are.
What are we?
What are you?
What am I?
Why are we here,
Why are we alive?
If we are here merely to die,
then is the blissfulness of life,
just a beautiful lie?
When life is merely death in the making,
then what's more to say?
If we were made to struggle and pray.
Then were does it all end up?
Were does it go?
Were do we fall?
Were do we fall,
When their is no place to land?
Is it possible for use to truely live,
a life worth living,
even though we will only die,
the death we were meanth to have?
Such sorrowful thoughts,
might make anothers mind cringe,
but to some it is mearly the spoken truth,
that's all it is.
We are raised upon morals,
reality,
then lies.
But were does all that go,
once each of us dies?
The book of life,
is death in the making,
though we each have the same intorduction,
and the same exact ending.
It is our decision on how we fill those pages,
that lay between,
the beginning and the ending.
~Chi ♥
Alex_the_Doversarus Community Member 
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Community Member