| It is not love, if love is cold to touch | 
| It is not belief, when there’s nothing there to trust | 
| Could not submit, would never bring myself to heel | 
| Determination grows, as each truth is revealed | 
| Torn and repaired, just to endure it all again | 
| Without a reason for my place in all this pain | 
| Though well concealed, the scars they just compound | 
| Until there’s nothing left of what was once my former self | 
| My god, look at what we are now | 
| Without regret for all the things that we have done | 
| Thank you for all the doubts, and for all the questioning | 
| For all the loneliness and for all the suffering | 
| For all the emptiness, and the scars it left inside | 
| It inspired in me, an impetus to fight | 
| For the conviction, for the purpose found alone | 
| For the strength and courage, that in me I’ve never known | 
| And if it seems to you, that my words are undeserved | 
| I write this in gratitude for whatever good it serves | 
| Sometimes I wish, that you could see me now | 
| In the rightful place, where I knew that I belonged | 
| Sometimes I wish, that you might someday understand | 
| To close the chapter, and lay to rest the past | 
| But nothing would change, we make the best of what we have | 
| For we are measured, by the actions of our lives | 
| We bide our time, let the future unfold | 
| Like immortals, in great legends to be told | 
| My god, look at what we are now | 
| Without regret for all the things that we have done | 
| Thank you for all the doubts, and for all the questioning | 
| For all the loneliness, and for all the suffering | 
| For all the emptiness, and the scars it left inside | 
| It inspired in me, an impetus to fight | 
| To all who stood with me, when we stood as one | 
| Thank you for guiding me, for bringing me home | 
| And if it seems that I’m obliged to say these words | 
| I write this in gratitude, the least that you deserve |