I always give more than I'm loved,
For I know what it's like in the dark,
To be forgotten, a shadow, a ghost,
Alone in the silence, no spark.
I've climbed out of hell more times than I can count,
Each time, a struggle, a fight,
But I rise from the ashes, with strength to surmount,
And carry the torch through the night.
I extend my hand to those still in the gloom,
Wanting to pull them to light,
For I've seen the depths of despair's cold tomb,
And I'll guide them through the night.
In giving, I find my own way to heal,
In helping, I find my own grace,
For the love that I offer, though often concealed,
Shines brightest in the darkest place.
