Lost

I keep holding on because I believe in the fight.
There are times when I doubt that my heart knows what's right.
Why is it that when it counts the most we often choke.
Why can't what lies just beneath the surface ever spring forth and
be heard. Why is it so hard to simply utter the right words.

Am I clinging to what's known because it is safe?
If I opened my hands and heart to see what else might await,
Is the fear that the darkness would find me alone
cause enough to halt the attempt?
Or are the lingering doubts of "what is" already time foolishly spent?

When I forget to dream, have I forgotten about life?
Does it mean I have relinquished my time to those other than me;
Since I have stopped thinking for me of what may come to be?
Daring to dream at someone elses loss-
Will dreaming always create an underlying cost?

Life now seems measured by smiles and tears
Accumulated over the vast number of years
Pleasure and pain have the same scale
For there are those who win, and those who fail.

And so it comes back to the question at hand
Who will judge our lives and by what criteria
Are we doomed if we stay beyond our given season
If we only stay for no real reason?