Gripping

I wonder if the results would be worth the fight. It's true that most journeys are greater than their destinations, but are some efforts a sign of naivety?
I still haven't fully grasped the fact that we're adults now. Hell, I can't bear to accept I'm an adult.
Is it worth the trials, to lit candles that feel as cold as indifference, or to fight while under an illusion of frosts while the world lives on its dim heat? Am I fighting for something or for the past version of something? Is it the memory of old that reigns over me?
And is there any way of bearing this knowledge other than going head on? Do I need the scars to know the size of a fight? Or is it that I've only known one way of doing it, and never got to research the alternatives?
Does it really feel this good or is it a craving of what's long lost? And how could I face the fact of it being lost? I've counted all the times I've thought about using the vile coin in order to keep you nearby, all the things I could do to help, or at least try. It amounts to much, but it has been under control for all these years. You don't need this kind of help, but it feels like it's the biggest punch I can pack.


Have I, after all, not learnt anything?