This is war, and I'm being torn apart as walls 

That we've worked so hard to break are built back up. 

Where do I even start, are there even words that 

I could write to tell you how I feel? 

Frail words penned on paper amount to nothing more than that. 

A failed attempt at expressing my gratitude. 

Wanting to hold on to more than just one night, 

And hoping that my words impact just one life. 

This is what keeps us pressing on. 

Is this still our home, 

Where my words can always be heard and there is no need for me to scream 

I will see this dream through for the rest of my days. 

Even if there is no change, 

Even if there is no hope, 

I'll open fire upon doubt. 

I'm hoping for a tomorrow where my dreams come true, 

And in this dream we'll find resolution. 

To give up would be to give in to everything I hate. 

Are we just going through the motions 

Prolonging what must be done. 

We've taken more than we've given in hopes of reaching more. 

Have we come so far? 

What's the point at all? 

Can we turn this around? 

To give up would be to give in to everything I hate.