Can you grant me one last wish? Play russian roulette as we kiss...

Hope, like blind faith, is no help.
Yet, we live everyday tied to it.
Hope alone keeps many going
And brings many down.
However, what happens when hope is dead?
What happens when it shatters into a million tiny pieces right before your eyes?
What comfort do we have then?
Is the comfort found in a bottle of pills?
Or in the mouth of a pistol?
Perhaps it is in the razor that resides in the bathroom.
Or maybe, in the grave that has your name on it.
Hope, like blind faith, is no help.