Wear it on your heart, for otherwise it shall not win!

Using all of my strength to climb to the top,
and you grasp me hard and push me down,
falling without a hold of support,
an inch from hell and I'm caught.

You reach out with that one supportive hand,
give me hope of survival,
as i begin my climb,
back up them great stairs.

I reach out my hand,
hoping for it to meet yours,
until the repetative worry continues,
and i fall once again.

Unsure whether i will be saved,
from the threatening flames of love,
ready to eat away at my corpse,
like a vulture waiting for our remains.

I am enveloped in strong supporting arms,
Overcome by love, lust and gratitude,
happiness worn on my face,
but worry always on my heart.