Rising

A never ending... something.

You give me this perfect world where corruption lies

and every tale that were ever told turned out to be one of the faeries.

Then you ask me to believe that it will all be ok, when satisfaction doesn't lie near.

Maybe that's all I need; to be told, held - It will all be ok.

She told me how worthless these things made me, not understanding though

this is how I always feel, always am.

Pain subsides for an hour, a day, and you watch happiness seep in.

That misleading venom, sharp. Bite of a snake

where poison exhilarates your every vein

every nerve tenses as the demonic faerie tale is told.

You realise it's much like your life, where true love is sparse: nothing has that happy ending.

Faith is just 

gone today, here tomorrow and gone again.

There's no grounds upon which to build a belief, and sinking into yourself makes the struggle harder.

Impossible tears that never stop or end, and pain and grief becomes pleasure and love.

It's as if all emotions have been swapped, and the game has just begun.

I tried to win on my own, cheated and got help, though they found me out - sent me back to square one.

So tell me where the happiness lies, what I have to do to get it, maintain it and enjoy it.

Silent sinking is only good for a while, then it just becomes mundane routine.

Blame of everything for why you're falling into darkness, covering up everything because there is no reason, no way to explain the way you feel. I don't know what they want me to say any more.    

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. predicaments and more predicaments ... dilemmas and more dilemmas ... pain and more pain ... sometimes it's just so hard to take life ...