Four years ago, I died
I've lived my life a lie
I felt inside my heart
an ever-loving guide
I prayed, and prayed for love
while looking up above
tears rolling down my eyes
I closed them as I cried

I begged and begged,
and when I lay my head to rest,
I wondered why
I was treated so much less
I kept looking up to the sky
a hole with emptiness
and I had no one else to rely,
and with nothing to hide

with my heart, I confessed. . .
you could say that I'm blessed
with all that I've lost
I've gained so much wisdom
but at what cost?
I don't think that it's worth it
I don't think that I'm happy
I understand my purpose;
I don't accept it gladly.

I've lost my religion
it wasn't my decision
after all, I guess I don't always value the truth.
but I've been through so much pain
to me, it is all in vain,
what was sacrificed of my youth
my innocence was slain
all for the hurtful truth.