This Life

Heart cold or warm
Depending on the season
But just don't do me wrong
I stay looking for a reason

Without much I thrive
By some regarded as a demon

Unlike most my eyes
Neglect to focus on pretending

Loose grip on reality
As it tightens my vision's fading

Without real eyes
Deception comes without protection
Turning a blind eye, really reflecting my deception

Focus on me or the world
I guess I'm introspecting
The world needs help, but I just doubt that I could help it

Digging deep within myself, viewing the little bit that is left
That which the world made me, to the truth I am mostly deaf

Various realities pending upon perception
Focused on myself and my family gets neglected

Lack of love chasing knowledge
And of myself, its nothing left
Chasing shadows and mirages just working myself to death