When you can see the end of the road,
But the hands you carry remain empty;
Your shoulders weary of the load you bear,
The yoke of your deeds, the curse on your name.

In fear of the shadows surrounding you,
But a hope that whispers, "Carry on";
To leave the familiar behind,
To step into the unknown, into faith.

When you find the devil that shatters you,
In the mirror every morning, haunting you;
When your very being, the one you know so well,
Is the nightmare you live each day.