This life is all we’ve got

      This life seemingly so long

      But over before it’s really begun

 

            One chance to get it right

            One time to make it count

            And no path to tell us where to go

 

                  A finish line appears behind us

                  An end before the start

                  Lost before the prize is won

 

                        Our path hidden from sight

                        Our purpose in the shadows

                        Revealed only once traveled

 

                              One chance to truly live

                              One chance to fully love

                              Once in so short a life time

 

                        Who is in control

                        Who shapes our path

                        Is it us or those who surround us

 

                  True love giving always

                  Taking and receiving never

                  More pain than being alone

 

            Betrayal and lies

            From ones you trust

            Cost of giving your heart away

 

      Trust and love squandered

      On those who shun and scorn

      The most precious gift of all

  

Battered and bruised by the end

                              Torn and bleeding from wounds

                              Inflicted by those closest to us

 

                        Yet we carry on to the end

                        Seeming blind to the horrors

                        That nip at our heals and maim us

 

                  The only reason selfish

                  The only way to carry on

                  To live for only ourselves

 

            The path most often traveled

            The less painful course

            But least worthy of our blood

 

      True salvation in living for pain

      For others unconditionally

      Through the sweat, and tears

 

            The true life being love

            Though painful and harsh

            Cutting us and making us bleed

 

                  But in the bleeding of our wounds

                  Finding purity of spirit and mind

                  Rejoicing in the hideous torture

 

                        Reveling in the agony

                        As we are dismantled and rebuilt

                        Time and time again along the way

 

                              Celebrating in a bath

                              Of bitter tears and dark blood

                              Thick with cries of relentless torment

  

Burning desire turning flesh to charcoal

Beneath it new skin emerges

Seeming strong yet more sensitive

 

            Molding each into a solid gem

            Of the rarest, most pure form

            Perfection attained through fire

 

                        Only to use us to carve another’s face

                        Or to adorn an unworthy body

                        Smashing us back to dust in the end