I cry for my loss of innocence, and the things I gave away...

Why, as the world spins, do I stand?
Still as the leaves, when there is no wind,
Why does it hurt so much?
When everything you believe in, feels right,
Why am I falling?

When everything around me is rising with the sun,
Why look for pain?
When there is none,
Is heaven a place on Earth?
Or does it come from the heart,
Every breath I take, is another fire, burning up inside,
I know that sometimes the truth hurts, but don’t ever let it slide.

Am I the only one, who takes pride in the little things?
The colour of the sky at dawn,
The feeling, knowing you’ve got something to give,
Even though they spit in your fire,
The freedom to run the waves, whenever the time is right,
The joy, of taking pride in who you are,
Even though they try and scar,
The flame of the candle, dancing in the window pane,
You are fulfilled; you have nothing more to gain.
Is there another part of me?
A part I do not know,
W