"Listen to these tales and romanticize, how we follow the path of the hero.
Boast about the day when the rivers overrun, how we will rise to the height of our halo.
Listen to the tales as we all rationalize our way into the arms of the savior.
Feigning all the trials and tribulations - none of us have actually been there - not like you.
Ignorant fibbers in the congregation, gather around spewing sympathy; spare me.
None of them can even hold a candle up to you, blinded by choices these hypocrites won't see.
But enough about the collective Judas;
Who could deny that you were the one who illuminated my little piece of divinity?
This little light of mine, the gift you've passed onto me, I'm going to let it shine.
To guide you safely on your way. Your way home...
Oh what are they going to do when the lights go down, without you to guide them all to Zion?
What are they going to do when the rivers overrun, instead of trembling incessantly?
High is the way but our lives are on the ground;
You are the light - the way - they'll only read about.
I only pray that heaven knows when to lift you out; ten thousand days in the fire is long enough.
You're. Going. Home.
You're the only one who can hold your head up high. Shake your fist at the gates saying
"I have come home now!"
Fetch me the spirit, the son, and the father. Tell them their pillar of faith has ascended.
It is my time now. My time now! Give me my wings! GIVE ME MY WINGS!
You are the light - the way - they'll only read about.
Set as I am in my ways of arrogance - burden of proof tossed upon you non-believers.
You are my witness. My eyes, my evidence. My unconditional one.
Daylight dims, leaving cold fluorescents; difficult to see you in this light.
Please forgive this bold suggestion, but should you see your makers face tonight,
Look him in the eye, and tell him "I've never lived a lie. Never took a life.
But surely saved one."
Hallelujah. It's time for you to bring me home."
For Surrah, the strongest young woman I've ever met.
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