The Point:

I am a pencil worn through 1000 pages of writings,
A knife used for 1000 years,
A book without a twist full plot,
A damp cloth to cover my tears,

I am diabetic drowning in candy,
A fighter punching myself in the face,
A singer without any vocal chords,
A pilot afraid of my flight's pace,

I am a writer without any good grammar,
A Vampire afraid of the dark,
A bomber twitchy to loud sounds,
An archer who can't hit their mark,

Some days I'm pointless,
Sometimes there doesn't seem to be a reason,
But throughout the emotions all around,
You are the sun through the tough seasons.

Zion's Wish:

The nights that stood fast,
Ones carried on with guiding lights,
Bright stars holding our faint hopes,
Breathing colors through our sights,

The stars blew violently still,
The whites and blues covered the sky,
The darkness seemed to wage on,
Yet the darkness was light in disguise,

The light was held against its will,
Holding back what those knew little,
The strong grew during these times,
And the weak became much more brittle,

The stars moved side to side,
Hidden beyond the horizon,
Knowing that our futures came bright,
That would lead us to our own Zion.