Union

I'm stopping and wondering what makes sense anymore.
Why I'm somehow phasing through a closing door.
And no, don't stop, I think I know what this is all about.
It's my boomeranging, relapsing, and recurring doubt.

Stick it out with me though, I'll be alright,
When you touch my face and hold me tight.
Be there when I fall back so together we can thrive.
Along the way we'll figure out what it means to be alive.

And stop me please if I'm proven to be wrong.
In the light of defeat I find it difficult to move on.
Even now I feel its dull ache deep within my chest.
But carry me forth and I'll make it for the best.

However, I am not helpless on my own.
I dread the feeling of being alone.
For as long as I have the will and the cunning.
You can refuse me, but I'll just keep on running.