For it

 For it ran in my blood.
For I believe it to be my last hope.
For it tied my hands ages ago.
And for the fact that I lost hope.

For no one knows how it is, or even what.

For no one understands the pain it caused.

For how it managed to tear me apart.

And for how it managed to make me whole

For I never chose it, and it never chose me.

For I will always hold it.

For it is my dear.

For the days that have passed.

For the pain and suffering of the past.

For the lack of administration, over feelings that were cast.

That were cast aside, for they were held back.

For releasing myself, will never be my call.

For it is my dear.

For I will always hold it.

For it has shaped the days of the past.

And for it will shape my future.

For I shall water it with my blood.

And for I believe it to be my last hope.

I will treasure it until the day.

The reaper comes to collect my soul.

And even then, I will keep it safe.

For I've written it down, it shall live on.

For my thoughts have always tormented me.

And for the fact, that stop, they won't.

I ask the lord, I speak for my sake.

Let it live on, but make no mistake.

Let it live on, but don't make it be seen in any other way.

Other than what it is intended to be.

For it is my last hope.

And for it helped me thus far.

For it will spill my blood one day.

And for the fact that I will have a smile on my face.

For I will die for it, no matter where both of us are.