In the depths of a great, deep hole, a boulder rolls down,
crushing us but not our souls.
We have ridden the tides of the sea,
sometimes struggling, sometimes free.
Because, like a phoenix, we shall rise from our ashes,
and fly like a bird that never crashes.
But now when we are tormented and messed,
tired and suppressed.
There is still a spark, that will always be there,
a lingering seed which we will never forswear.
The spark turns to a dancing flame,
Beautiful and bright, wild and untamed.
However bad things might get,
remember that flicker, that seed, that spark.
That light that will lead you, no matter how dark.
