Never 

have I quite understood why

it is.

Why

do I see what I see?

Why 

do I feel what I feel?

Why

is there a house over me?

Why

do I try to live?

Why

am I given this chance?

Why 

am I expected to continue in this

labyrinth

of a dance?

What is the 

point

when everything is set for

failure?

When everything is to come to an

end?

What am I working towards?

The destruction

of all the time that I spend?

Well,

the ocean holds more

deep

than shallow,

the air exerts more

filth

than purity,

Vancouver pours more

rain

than sun,

and everything that encounters light,

drags its own shadow

behind it,

so what am I living for

when all that I will

leave

is the death of the

fire

that I worked so hard and

lit.