I’ve tried and I’ve tried to find my purpose;
I thought it to be a grand endeavor.
I thought I held the gift of destiny:
The kind that is remembered forever.
I thought my life was to be one of opportunity,
Full of doors leading me on.
Gateways to joy and happiness,
But instead I’ve sown a trail of love forgone.
With every day that passes,
I wonder more and more.
If maybe my whole purpose
Is to simply shut the door.
Maybe my destiny is to change those around me;
To change the ones who love me.
To die and fade away,
Until I am nothing more than a memory.
A memory to urge them on,
A cautionary tale.
A fate to warn themselves against,
A reason not to fail.
Even if I tear apart their lives,
Burning them to the ground,
They would have the strength to build them up again,
Planting seeds within the ground.
Like a wildfire sears away the green within,
Purely to clear space for better life,
Is my purpose to do the same?
To force change by causing strife?
Perhaps one day, when I’ve exhausted everything else,
I’ll accept that it is my destiny to die.
For another lie is blooming on my tongue,
And my blood-soaked hands have yet to dry.