Then I saw myself down the universe,
wondering if I'm something special;
beneath this roads through my thoughts,
I was lost in track with wonders.

Dearly dear, how could I ever reach the top,
Up in the hill with this swollen feet.
Then I took a few steps,
as my grief shout in silence;

there was a lump in my throat,
it made me harder to breath.

As the wind grew stronger,
the wind almost blew me away.
Little one, how strong is your faith?

I let down the weight in my back,
as these swollen feet began to bleed,
O! how I am used to things yet its
hard to let go.

The fog came down and then
I can see no more;
so I held into the ground
as my hands started to wound
as i felt the torn's from the plant.

Hereby, as I shouted at the top of my lungs
wishing the universe would hear my word,
what have I ever done to deserve this.

Yet I stumble in fear ,
while my agony is in silence;
it was night, until I could see the stars
I'll climb over the hill before the sunrise
will come.

I was almost there, yet I shivered in chill;
I gasped for some air to breath,
as I slowly felt weak.

My wounds were healed,
my hand and feet no longer bleed,
but the scars wont fade.

I stood still, as I smell a lavender at
the waves of the wind.

My feet was apart, and I was standing straight.
It was sunrise, and I was at the top of the hill,
it felt infinite as my agony flew away,
and my faith stand still at the very
top of the end.