In the midst of the sleeping storm I feel life crawling into my pores,
the pain of thought causes boiling sweat to clean and heal my sores.
I remember how I gave up and cast my will aside to sloth and greed,
but deep within my dormant corpse my passion slept inside a seed.
Never again shall I submit to the whispers and songs of doubt and fear,
my strength lies in my passion, will and faith and I will hold them dear.
So I will gather strength from the lessons gained from the scars and lashes.
As I stand in the midst of the world soaked in my own victory covered in ashes.