What's worth?

It's because 

I know a world where promises are not kept 

I know a world where the ramparts echo, 

I am up for it, while the nation sleeps 

I know a world where her wounded self is no self at all while she stitches it together with needles 

I know a world where nothing really matters except the facade they walk heavy with 

I know a world where people build their self-love minarets on burial grounds of purple hearts 

I know a world where no amount of begging could move you to mercy 

I know a world where you get so used to the clutter that Jesus comes to save you long after you are gone 

Then it is no wonder I presume 

my soul is empty 

I sure do laugh it all off as

love for you.

Credits to a man, finally.