Prisoner of War
I see the blood running under my feet.
I watch my brothers as they fall to their graves.
What have I done to deserve this fate?
We’re going down.
You may tear my flesh from my bones,
But you’ll never break me (x2).
Nothing is sacred.
I watch my world fall apart,
I own a whole new set of scars.
Nothing is sacred.
Now my life is shackled in my hands.
God I’m calling on you now (x2).
I once found my dreams,
Somewhere across the sea,
In a land that’s make believe.
I won’t stray from you,
Never been so far away,
And I won’t forget you.
We’re going down (x2).
Call me a prisoner of war (x2).
You can tear my flesh from my bones,
But you’ll never break me.
Glimmer of Hope
It feels so good, to rise from the embers,
Out of desolation, breathing life anew.
I'm going home.
And I know that I am going home x4.
You see a burned-out forest, I see a glimmer of hope.
Under the pillars of smoke, new trees begin to grow.
Memories of what this wretch used to be all fell away once these roots were set free.
I feel the sun shining down on my face,
Reminding me there's life beyond the cold.
Please fill my heart; please feed my aching soul.
Take my hand, please guide me home.
From the soil that keeps me planted, to the stars that keep my eyes fixed above, my spirit is unshaken because i know
When my knees buckle, when my legs lose all of their strength, the arms of mercy will carry me away.
And when the fire comes to burn life from the trees, sweet chariot swing low again, restore me.
Crushed by the weight of the war waged within me,
Drowning in all of the blood that I’ve lost.
Dragged down deep into insanity,
Help me please!
Out of many I am one,
Being burned by the rays of the sun,
I will wither away, growing weak with each day,
And soon enough I will break.
Will there ever be an end?
If there’s not I’ll just pretend,
All is well and I can be,
Fully healed and fully free.
Silent screams in my head,
Am I better off dead?
Rip my flesh, feel my pain,
Pour out my words through open veins.
Never eat, never sleep,
So if you need me I’ll be…
Rotting in my hopelessness.
Weary souls receive no rest.
A razor or a bottle could bring me to tomorrow,
But that would only work for so long.
If God could heal my pain or rid me of this sorrow,
Why is He testing my patience?
Haven’t I suffered enough?