The Being

In life we find thrill, chills and vains of nerve Dreams of believers as high as sky eyes Like climbing mountain, loose stone, slide to next grab We stumble, occasional knee drop to ground Inside, is it emotion controls ego edge for living A complex molecule structure pumped by blood red heart A spirit, does it live that even in death existence remains Even in life you can not kill what is not human Only the form you take its dust returns to earth Soul so alike, its change can be wicked We battle way's of past, looking for peace in mankind Does it exist or just mere idealistic thought That even our creation has baffled centuries long Wars, famine, still in hopes like guinea pigs Our own living deadly to revolution to the stars What is it thrives the being except its last breath Fake hope of possibilities you can't take with you Passed down to next and next forgotten and buried What is it we live but that we live life to fullest That our print be remembered generations to come What is it that we are but our own example we lead Struggle of realities truth quickens thirst for death Prolonged agony of the being, torcher not always seen Only in you the being, to be or not; that is the question