Answers I long so desperately for.
Blame I still chase, and guilt even more.
Crying to deaf ears and a blinded heart,
Dying, it seems, is when true living starts.
Everyone knows there’s a price to pay
For all that you keep and refuse to say.
Gracious our king—so humble, so wise.
How do we still choose pain over paradise?
I don’t know how far I’ve managed to come.
Justice, for me, has never mea...