Why does every poem need a title anyway?

Anger flowing like a current with no end, overtaking everything in its path. Soberness is lost yet again.
Don't keep lying, eventually she'll never come back.
Darkness will cast it's eyes upon you as you hold your breath and fear what's to happen, when there's nothing left.
It was nice while it lasted, if only it lasted longer,
but everything dies. Sooner or later we'll all be gone here.
Strike a match and watch it burn out.
Our feeble minds cannot comprehend the magnitude, and so we side with doubt.