We are wiser now,
But I still find myself catching fire
Every once in a while.
And it's for those moments that I crave
I hunger for that self professed agony
that can only be brought by oneself
through careless and profound falling.
We are of the damaged men
as we throw our sanity to the mercy
of doubtful, sinful feelings.
And over futile odds
I can always sense how my heart's desire
is never to be full again,
but better still to ache continuously
for something as hazardous as happiness.
So the battle is carried on indefinitely
each scar is laughed at by the gods,
but I know how they envy us
for we can feel ourselves breaking
and still live with thoughts of clear, ever lasting love.