A/N: Before I get stuck with the credit for this, listen carefully. I DID NOT write this. I can't do poetry. Never could. This was written by a friend, who is in denial about his own skills. He can write wicked awesome poetry, and will never admit to it, for reasons unknown. I know, he's an idiot, right? Yes, well, he wouldn't make his own account, and I got instructions to post this for him. Read & Review!

With colours and beauty there
Must be darkness and shadow
The cold cut of steel, the dark torturous pain
Of life, of death, of sadness, of anger

Have you ever held a knife to your throat?
Contemplating, thinking, tasting the fear
Have you ever held a gun to your head?
Wondering, knowing, pulling away

Fire and Ice, anger and peace
Life is just living, just for life
Its just action and reaction
And movement and expression

Have you ever held a knife to your throat?
Contemplating, thinking, tasting the fear
Have you ever held a gun to your head?
Wondering, knowing, pulling away

Have you ever held a knife to your throat?
Have you ever held a gun to your head?
Contemplating, wondering, thinking, knowing
Doing.