Questions and Answers
Have I lost my flame like the lamp on the altar?
Or have I lost my last fire like a dying ember?
Do I stand unconsumed in the heat of this flair?
Or have I been destroyed; now nothing but ashes?
This is a message to the brain that wants to kill me
from my soul that refuses to die.
I may have been born wretched, confused, a coward;
but today I refuse to tremble, cower, or cry.
On the next mountaintop, in this pitch dark,
I see a flickering candlelight.
Do I dare walk across the valley?
Do I dare to not try?
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