They tell me to light the flame inside,
When it’s the reason I run and hide.
Much like the force of a rushing tide.

Forceful pleasure leads to forceful pain
Leaving upon the soul a stain
One of colors red and black,
Of a time never to be brought back.

The flame burns bright
Though sometimes only a candlelight.
We all face our fears in time
For peace, we all must fight.

We could run and hide,
But we should light the flame inside.
Because even the tide gets weary sometimes.