Why am I so petty,
Corrupt and raging with sin.
That I don't look inside,
And see gods work from within.
I'm blinded from the light,
But the dark I see clearly.
Does this make me a bad person,
That I hold night so dearly?
No hopes, no cares,
No dreams, no life.
I live as a passenger,
In my lives car ride.
Guided by others,
And the distinct signs.
My life is coming,
To a great, big sigh.
Until I see,
My errors at heart.
My soul is grounded,
No longer winged like a lark.
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