Fiddle me riddle me tittle me this:
If there is just pain is there something to miss?
Is there something to gain in a sweet reminisce?
All of this fodder has taken a spark
And the wick is run short and the battle will start
Not a battle of wits but a battle of spirit,
Courage and chaos both take space within it.
I found you, a rare and precious stone,
And I tried-begging God, for more strength from His throne